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LI  B  RAHY 

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UN  IVLRSITY 

Of    ILLINOIS 

623 
v.l  J 


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JACK'S    COURTSHIP 

A   SAILOR'S  YARN  OF  LOVE  AND 
SHIPWRECK. 


BY 

W.   CLAEK  EUSSELL, 

AETH02  OF    "  m    '  LABI   MACTV  "   "  A   .SEA   QCEEX,"   ETC. 


IN   TEHEE    VOL  CUES. 
VOL.  I. 


LONDON: 

SAMPSON  LOW,  MAKSTOX,  SEAELB  &  EIYINGTOX, 

CBOWN  BUILDINGS,  188,  FLEET  STREET. 

1884. 

(All  rights  reserved.') 


LONDON : 

PRINTED  BY  TYILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,   LIMITED, 

STAMFORD  STREET  AND  CHARING  CROSS. 


3 

R1 


CONTENTS   OF   VOL.    I. 


IAPTBB  I'A'.K 

I.  A  Short  Preface          ...  ...           ...           ...        1 

II.  My  Uncle  Seymour            ...  ...           ...               9 

III.  I  go  to  Clifton            ...  ...  ...            ...      23 

IV.  Some  Sacred  Music               ...  ...  ...              49 

V.  Mr.  Alfhonso  Hayvke  ...  ...            ...            ...       83 

VI.  A  Little  Dinner  at  Clifton  Lodge              ...              9G 

VII.  Miss  Hawke's  Instructions  ...           ...           ...    137 

Till.  I  take  Lodgings    ...           ...  ...           ...           161 


f 


IX.  My  Bristol  Lodgings   ...            ...            ...  ...     190 

X.  My  Uncle  damps  my  Hopes               ...            ...  203 

XL  I  four  out  my  Soul      ...             ...             ...  ...     214 

XII.  I  receive  a  Visit  ...           ...           ...           ...  244 

XIII.  Loggings         266 

XIV.  I  RETURN   TO  LONDON                ...                ...                ...  292 

^Jj      XV.  A  Terrible  Blow         ...            ...            ...  ...     303 

XVI.  A  Grand  Idea       313 


JACK'S    COURTSHIP 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  SHORT  PREFACE. 

Shipmate,  have  you  ever  seen  such  a  sight  as  a 
dog  chasing  his  tail  on  a  hearthrug  or  in  the  sun, 
in  pursuit  of  a  comfortable  posture  ?  Just  in  that 
manner  have  I  rotated  over  this  story.  Over  and 
over  again  in  my  mind  have  I  been  turning  it, 
trying  to  find  out  how  it  ought  to  be  told.  It  is 
as  queer  a  yarn,  in  my  opinion,  as  any  man  ever 
had  to  relate;  and  an  artist,  I  have  no  doubt, 
would  make  a  first-rate  job  of  it.  But  I,  who  had 
all  that  I  learnt  at  school  washed  out  of  me  at 
sea,  where  the  Latin  grammar,  the  Greek  alphabet, 
and  the  like,  were  jettisoned  to  make  way  for  a 
very  different  sort  of  intellectual  cargo — I  say,  how 
should  I  be  expected  to  know  anything  about  art  ? 
After  many  mental  revolutions  I  have   arrived 

VOL.  I.  B 


2  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

at  this  determination — to  make  a  kind  of  log  of 
it,  and  to  spin  the  whole  yarn  as  though  a  com- 
pany of  sailors  were  sitting  round  me,  pipes  in 
hand,  and  I  was  talking  to  them.  The  story  will 
go  to  windward  better  in  that  form  than  in  any 
other ;  and  as  a  log-book  is  the  last  sort  of 
volume  you  would  look  into  for  elevated  writing, 
and  as  the  mariner's  lingo  has  never  been  famous 
for  polish  and  sweetness,  so  my  choice  comforts 
me  with  the  reflection  that  it  will  save  me  the 
pains  of  reading  through  the  poets  for  elegant 
ideas,  and  wading  through  the  dictionary  for  fine 
words. 

My  name  is  Jack  Seymour,  and  in  such-and- 
such  a  year  I  was  five-and-twenty  years  old. 
Were  yarns  of  this  kind  embellished  with  cuts  I 
might  save  myself  a  troublesome  spell  of  descrip- 
tion by  handing  the  printers  a  portrait  of  myself 
as  I  was  in  those  days.  Five  feet  ten  inches  my 
height  was,  and  though  I  had  knocked  off  the  sea, 
after  seven  and  a  half  years  of  it,  in  eighteen 
hundred  and  something  odd,  old  ocean  had  left 
such  an  impress  on  me  that  I  looked  as  much  a 
sailor  after  three  years  of  shore-going  life  as  ever 
I  did  in  the  jumper  of  an  apprentice  riding  down 
a  topgallant  stay,  or  in  the  blue  serge  or  pilot- 
cloth  of  a  second  mate,  stumping  the  weather-side 
of  the  quarter-deck. 

It  takes  a  sailor  a  long  time  to  straighten  his 


A   SHORT   PREFACE.  3 

spine  and  get  quit  of  the  bold  sheer  that  earns 
him  the  name  of  shell-back.  That  is  not  all. 
Lobscouse  eats  into  the  system ;  salt-horse  works 
out  of  the  pores  and  contributes  to  that  complexion 
of  mahogany  which  is  often  mistakenly  attributed 
^o  rum  and  weather ;  and  I  have  been  shipmates 
with  a  man  who  grew  white-haired  at  thirty  on 
soup  and  bully. 

Why  will  mammas  let  their  little  boys  go  to 
sea  ?  It  is  not  only  that  it  is  the  hardest  life  in 
the  world;  when  once  you  are  a  sailor  you  are 
always  a  sailor,  and  the  calling  sticks  to  you  as 
the  rings  and  bracelets  do  which  are  pricked  upon 
your  wrists  and  fingers  ;  so  that  should  you  ever 
happen  to  fall  in  love  with  a  girl  who  does  not 
much  care  about  sailors,  but  who  likes  soldiers, 
and  could  like  you  were  you  a  soldier,  you  are 
forced  in  spite  of  yourself  to  go  on  looking  like  a 
sailor,  though  you  may  have  quitted  the  sea  for 
years,  and  would  enlist  to-morrow  if  the  beauty 
commanded  you  to  do  so. 

I  ceased  to  be  a  nautical  man  when  my  father 
•died.  I  was  then  second  mate  of  the  vessel  in 
which  I  took  my  last  voyage,  with  a  chief  mate's 
certificate,  and  had  little  doubt  of  obtaining  a 
chief  mate's  berth  next  time.  But  on  my  arrival 
in  London  from  China,  after  a  voyage  that  had 
carried  me  round  the  world  twice,  I  learnt  that 
my  poor  father  was  dead,  and  had  left  me  all  he 


4  JACKS  COUKTSHIP. 

had,  barring  his  furniture,  which  he  had  willed  to 
some  relative  who  lived  in  the  north  of  England, 
though  I  had  never  heard  of  her  before,  and  do  not 
even  now  know  in  what  manner  she  was  connected 
with  my  father. 

He  died  a  comparatively  poor  man,  owing  to  his 
living  up  to  his  earnings  as  a  solicitor ;  and  all 
that  I  stepped  into  was  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  a  year — or  thereabouts ;  between  our- 
selves, I  may  say  it  was  a  few  pounds  short  of 
that  figure.  But  it  was  an  estate  to  me  who  was 
absolutely  alone  in  the  world,  being  an  only  child, 
and  my  mother  having  died  many  years  before  this 
story  starts.  At  all  events,  I  reckoned  the  income 
— the  capital  was  well  invested — large  enough  to 
justify  me  in  heaving  my  profession  overboard  and 
setting  up  for  myself  as  a  gentleman  ashore. 

Accordingly  I  hired  a  furnished  bedroom  and 
sitting-room  in  the  West  End  of  London,  paid 
a  small  subscription,  and  became  member  of  a 
little  club,  which  brought  me  acquainted  with  a 
number  of  very  good  fellows,  so  that  I  had 
companions  enough.  And  for  a  year  or  two  this 
sort  of  life  suited  me  very  well.  It  was  an  im- 
mense escape  from  the  old  servitude  of  the  sea; 
I  was  my  own  master,  could  do  what  I  pleased,  go 
where  I  liked,  was  responsible  to  no  man ;  and  I 
was  never  tired  of  thinking  of  my  liberty  and. 
enjoying  it. 


A  SHORT   PREFACE.  5 

But  I  am  bound  to  say  that,  as  time  crept  ou, 
I  began  to  consider  that  I  had  no  business  to  be 
loafing  about  the  West  End  of  London.  There 
was  enough  money,  perhaps,  in  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  a  year — to  give  the  income  a  square 
sound — to  enable  me  to  take  life  on  the  condition 
of  dining  for  three -and-sixpence,  of  cheapening  the 
obligation  of  smoking  by  a  judicious  admixture  of 
pipes  with  cigars,  of  attending  a  play  or  an  opera 
when  a  ticket  for  it  was  given  me,  and  even  going 
to  a  dance,  at  long  intervals,  at  some  houses  which 
were  very  hospitably  open  to  me. 

But  when  two  years  of  this  easy,  idle  life  had 
passed,  reflections  would  steal  in.  I  began  to 
think  my  income  small,  and  that  I  should  find  it 
smaller  as  I  grew  older  ;  for  though  a  youngster 
possessed  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year 
may  be  thought  pretty  well  off,  an  old  or  middle- 
aged  man  cuts  but  a  poor  figure  on  that  sum.  No 
thoughts  of  marriage  had  ever  entered  my  head  ; 
not  only  because  I  liked  being  lord  of  myself,  which 
I  certainly  found  no  great  heritage  of  woe  (possibly 
because  I  never  underwent  the  labour  of  putting 
my  hair  in  curl-papers),  but  because  I  had  never 
met  with  any  girl  I  could  fall  in  love  with. 

And  here  let  me  say  that  I  cannot  recall  this 
period  of  my  life  without  a  disposition  to  drop  on 
my  knees  and  give  thanks  for  my  salvation  from 
the  fate  that  too  often  befalls  idle  young  men  on 


6  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

small  incomes  in  London  and  other  parts.  For 
I  protest  that  nothing  stood  between  me  and  a 
dark  destiny  in  the  shape  of  a  ballet-girl  or  a 
barmaid,  but  a  tolerable  stock  of  good  sense  and 
a  natural  aversion  froni  anything  vulgar  or  com- 
monplace in  woman.  What  hand  was  there  to 
save  me  had  I  chosen  to  lounge  about  bars  and 
suck  the  nob  of  my  stick  in  dreary  intimate  confab 
with  the  curls,  and  rouge,  and  wadding  of  the 
restaurant  or  the  public-house  ?  I  don't  mean  to 
say  that  barmaids  and  ballet-girls,  and  the  like, 
do  not  make  good  wives.  I  have  no  doubt  they 
try  their  best;  but  what  can  they  do  with  their 
vulgarity  ?  How  are  they  to  deal  with  a  certain 
letter  which  will  recur  in  conversation  like  a 
circumstance  over  which  they  have  no  control? 
I  am  thankful  for  being  saved  from  marrying  a 
lady  of  this  pattern,  because  I  can  conceive  of  no 
domestic  condition  more  truly  frightful  than  that 
of  having  a  wife  of  which  one  is  ashamed,  whose 
conversation  in  company  causes  all  hands  acute 
suffering,  and  who  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  one's 
friends  pity  and  despise  one.  I  once  sat  near  a 
knight,  who  was  also  a  member  of  parliament,  at 
a  table  full  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  The  knight's 
wife  sat  over  against  us  ;  she  had  a  kind  face,  but 
was  a  most  illiterate  woman,  yet  had  been  a  good 
match  for  the  knight  when  he  developed  from  an 
errand-boy    into   a   porter.      He    had    made    his 


A   SHOKT   PREFACE.  7 

fortune,  had  educated  himself,  was  a  great  man 
and  a  fine  man,  with  a  strong  voice  and  an 
imposing  bow ;  he  was  an  Irishman,  and  spoke 
of  "me  colleague  the  mimber  for  Ballywhack ; " 
and  opposite  sat  his  wife,  on  whom  he  had  to  keep 
scowling  to  remind  her  that  she  was  there  on  the 
condition  that  she  did  not  spake.  Who  would  be 
in  such  a  position  as  that  Irish  knight  was? 
Fancy  having  to  dragon  a  wife,  not  for  her 
morals,  but  lest  she  should  open  her  mouth  and 
say  'ouse  for  house,  and  so  forth  !  Hence,  when 
I  think  of  my  life  in  London  after  I  gave  up  the 
sea  down  to  the  time  when  this  yarn  properly 
opens,  when  I  consider  the  several  opportunities 
afforded  me  of  giving  my  name  to  a  fifth-rate 
actress,  a  music-hall  singer,  a  stout,  pale,  and 
golden  beauty  who  drew  beer  behind  a  luncheon- 
bar,  and  two  or  three  others  whose  vocations  I 
cannot  just  now  recollect,  I  declare  I  am  ready  to 
prostrate  myself  with  gratitude  over  my  escape. 

Well,  I  will  say  no  more  about  this,  and  belay 
any  further  reference  to  my  growing  sensitiveness 
on  the  subject  of  idleness,  and  the  enlarging  con- 
viction that  if  ever  I  was  to  end  as  a  man  qualified 
to  enjoy  life  without  perpetually  overhauling  his 
purse  to  see  if  there  were  a  few  shillings  in  it  to 
spare,  I  must  turn  to  and  discover  some  method  of 
getting  money  whilst  I  was  young  and  my  health 
and  spirits   good.      Enough   for   the  purpose    of 


8  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

these  loggings  if  I  say  that  in  the  summer  of  the 
year  18 —  I  found  myself  at  Clifton,  near  Bristol, 
the  guest  of  an  uncle,  of  whose  existence  I  had 
indeed  heard,  though  I  had  never  before  set  eyes 
on  him,  and  my  meeting  with  whom  was  so  odd 
and  unexpected  that  I  am  bound  to  tell  you  the 
story  of  it. 


(     9     ) 


CHAPTER  II. 

MY    UNCLE    SEYMOUR. 

I  was  standing  at  the  window  of  my  lodgings,  near 
Begent  Street,  smoking  a  cigar  and  watching  the 
people  pass.  It  was  a  very  hot  day;  not  a  dog 
trotted  hy  but  had  half  a  fathom  of  tongue  hanging 
from  its  jaws ;  and  the  heat  gave  an  edge  to  the 
peculiar  smell  of  flue  and  ancient  cookery  that 
haunts  the  atmosphere  of  every  London  lodging- 
house.  In  short,  it  was  just  a  day  to  set  a  man 
dreaming  of  the  country,  of  shady  nooks  under 
cool  trees  crowded  with  twinkling  leaves,  bees 
making  a  homelike  music  in  the  sunshine  bej'ond, 
and  a  smell  of  wildflowers  around ;  or,  better  still, 
of  the  sea-shore,  the  lip,  lipping,  and  fountain-like 
seething  of  the  tide  on  the  brown  sand,  a  mild 
breeze,  warm  as  a  woman's  breath,  blowing  across 
the  azure  water  with  enough  of  strength  in  it  to 
keep  the  pools  among  the  rocks  trembling. 

Nothing  could  be  pleasanter  than  such  thoughts, 
and  whilst  I  stood  turning  them  over  and  resolving 
in  a  mechanical  sort  of  way  to  up  keeleg  and  make 


10  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

a  stretch  for  the  coast — no  matter  where — there 
comes  a  cab  along  the  street,  stoics  under  my 
"window,  and  presently  a  servant  bundles  into  the 
room  to  tell  me  that  a  gentleman  wishes  to  see 
Mr.  Seymour. 

He  was  close  behind  the  girl,  and  before  I  could 
ask  his  name  she  stepped  aside  and  he  walked  in. 
He  looked  at  me  very  hard,  and  said,  "Is  your 
name  John  Sutherland  Seymour  ?  " 

I  bowed. 

"  Son  of  Thomas  Sutherland  Seymour,  solicitor 
of ,"  naming  the  address. 

I  bowed  again,  wondering  who  he  was  and  what 
his  business  could  be.  He  was  about  fifty-five 
years  old — perhaps  more — had  a  strong,  reddish 
beard,  heavy  eyebrows,  and  small  merry  blue  eyes. 
He  had  spoken  my  name  with  a  slight  Yankee 
drawl  in  his  voice,  but  his  appearance  was  that  of 
an  Australian — to  my  fancy  at  least ;  perhaps 
because  when  I  was  in  Australia  I  had  seen  men 
go  dressed  as  he  was,  in  blue  check  shirt  and 
collar,  blue  serge  trowsers,  white  waistcoat,  cloth 
coat,  square-toed  boots,  and  a  large,  soft,  flapping 
wideawake. 

"  John  Sutherland  Seymour — probably  Jack 
Seymour?"  he  repeated;  and  I  said,  "Yes,  sir; 
Jack  Seymour,  that's  my  name." 

"  Seymour  is  my  name  too,"  said  he.  "Can't 
you  guess  who  I  am  ?  " 


MY   UNCLE   SEYMOUR.  11 

I  stared,  trying  to  think. 

"Havel  been  all  my  life  carrying  the  family 
nose  about  to  no  purpose?"  he  cried.  "What  is 
the  use  of  the  genuine  Roman  run,  the  Seymour 
rise — what  sailors  would  call  the  kink  amidships — 
if  it  fails  to  convict  me  as  a  relation  ?  "  And  so 
saying  he  struck  an  attitude  in  profile  with  his 
forefinger  against  his  nose. 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  are  my  uncle,  Charles 
Seymour  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  More  than  possible  if  you  are  Tom  Seymour's 
son?"  he  answered;  and  coming  up  to  me  he 
grasped  me  by  the  hand,  nearly  shook  my  arm  off, 
and  then,  pitching  his  hat  and  stick  on  to  a  sofa, 
plumped  himself  into  a  chair. 

I  welcomed  him  with  as  much  heartiness  as 
surprise  would  let  me  put  into  my  manner, 
endeavouring  meanwhile  to  recollect  what  I  had 
heard  about  him  from  my  father ;  how  in  his  youth 
he  had  been  packed  off  to  sea  as  a  scapegrace ; 
how  he  had  run  away  from  his  ship  in  some  China 
port,  and  was  heard  of  five  years  later  as  doing 
pretty  well  in  New  York ;  how,  very  much  later 
yet,  news  of  him  reached  my  father  from  Canada 
through  a  gentleman  who  reported  that  he  was 
making  money  fast.  He  had  never  written,  and 
had  been  as  dead  to  his  family  as  if  he  had  fallen 
overboard  and  gone  to  the  bottom  on  his  first 
voyage. 


12  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

After  a  long  and  very  narrow  inspection  of  me, 
he  said,  "  Yon  are  not  like  your  dad,  Jack ! " 

"  No,"  said  I,  amused  to  hear  him  call  me  Jack. 

"  D'ye  see  any  family  likeness  in  me  ?"  he  asked. 

"  More  than  enough  to  swear  by,"  I  answered. 

He  ran  his  eye  over  the  room,  turning  his  head 
about  so  as  to  command  a  round  view,  and  coming 
back  to  me  asked  if  I  was  married. 

"  No,"  said  I  laughing,  for  there  is  something  in 
this  question  that  will  make  a  single  man  laugh. 

"I  might  guess  so.  There  are  no  female  hints 
here,  and  that  pipe,"  says  he,  nodding  towards 
the  mantelpiece,  "  carries,  I  calculate,  at  least  six 
smokes  too  much  in  the  bowl  of  it  ever  to  be  in  the 
family  line.     Where  does  your  father  live  ?  " 

"He  is  dead,"  I  replied. 

"Dead!"  he  exclaimed.  "Dead,  d'ye  say?" 
he  bent  his  eyes  on  the  ground  and  tapped  with 
his  foot.     "  How  long  has  he  been  dead  ?  " 

I  told  him.  He  continued  looking  at  the  floor 
with  a  very  grieved  and  disappointed  expression  in 
his  face,  and  then,  returning  to  his  first  manner, 
said,  "  I  hope  he  died  pretty  well  off  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  I.  "  Pretty  well  off,  but  not 
better  than  pretty  well." 

"  Is  your  mother  living  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  So  you're  alone  ?  " 

I   nodded.      He   took   another  look   round  the 


MY  UNCLE  SEYMOUR.  13 

room,  and  said,  "You  have  all  that  my  brother 
Tom  left,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  Pretty  nearly  all,"  I  answered,  tickled  by  his 
Yankee  curiosity,  though  he  asked  his  questions 
with  ;so  much  good  nature  and  sympathy  in  his 
voice  and  manner  that  it  was  impossible  to  resent 
them. 

"  What  might  that  be,  sir  ?  " 

"  A  trifle  short  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
a  year." 

"  Ah !  "  he  exclaimed,  pulling  a  chair  to  him, 
and  resting  one  leg  upon  it.  "  Time  was  when  I 
reckoned  Tom  would  beat  me.  He  had  ten  times 
my  brains  and  fifty  times  my  ballast.  He  would 
be  going  to  windward  with  his  spars  erect  and 
his  spanker-boom  amidships  when  I  was  on  my 
beam  ends,  points  off  my  course,  and  sagging  like  a 
billyboy  to  leeward.  You'll  excuse  my  nautical 
similes,  nephew.  They  are  not  always  intelli- 
gible, but  I  am  fond  of  going  to  the  ocean  for  my 
ideas." 

"Head  as  you  please  in  that  way,"  said  I, 
laughing.     "  You'll  find  me  close  in  your  wake." 

M  Oh,  then  you  understand  something  about  the 
sea,  do  ye  ?  "  says  he. 

"  As  much  as  seven  and  a  half  years  of  sailoris- 
ing  could  teach  me." 

"Damme!  "  he  burst  out,  "if  I  didn't  think  so 
right  away  off  when  I  first  looked  at  you.     But 


14  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

you're  not  at  sea  now — you're  no  longer  a  sailor, 
are  you  ?  " 

"  No.  I  gave  up  that  life  when  my  father  died. 
What  man  worth  five  pounds  a  week  would  keep 
at  sea  as  a  sailor  ?  " 

"  Ay,  abuse  it !  abuse  it,  my  lad,"  he  shouted. 
"  I'm  your  man  to  follow  every  syllable  with 
breathless  enjoyment.  Oh  for  the  privilege  of 
spread-eagling  the  rogues  who  write  books  about 
the  nautical  life,  and  make  it  appear  a  pleasant 
calling.  Have  they  dwelt  with  the  sailor  in  his 
forecastle  ?  have  they  ever  spent  two  hours  in 
passing  a  lee-earing,  as  flexible  as  a  bar  of  iron,  in 
a  gale  of  wind  full  of  ice  and  the  water  washing  as 
high  as  the  lee  coamings  of  the  main-hatch  ?  can 
they  show  figure-heads  mutilated  like  ours  by 
weather  that  ranges  from  the  roasting  calms  of  the 
equator  to  the  hissing  snow-whirls  and  shrieking 
hurricanes  of  the  Horn  ?  " 

He  pulled  a  handful  of  cigars  out  of  his  side 
pocket,  put  one  into  his  mouth,  and  handed  the 
others  to  me. 

"Mind,"  he  continued,  flourishing  his  cigar, 
lowering  his  voice,  knitting  his  shaggy  brows  and 
speaking  with  tragic  solemnity,  "  I  do  not  mean 
that  the  wonderful,  ay,  Jack,  the  thrilling  magic  of 
the  ocean  that  drew  me  as  a  boy " 

"  I  always  understood  you  were  sent  there,"  I 
interrupted. 


MY   UNCLE  SEYMOUR.  15 

"  to  its  moaning,  storm-laden  heart,"  he  con- 
tinued, slightly  cocking  his  right  eye  at  me,  but 
taking  no  further  notice  of  my  remark,  "has 
vanished  from  my  sympathy  and  love.  Davy 
forbid  !  Man  !  I  never  hear  the  sullen  thunder  of 
breakers  upon  the  shore,  I  never  look  forth  upon 
the  mighty  grey  or  violet  or  silvery  blue  shadow 
that  leans  its  sweeping  line  against  the  haze  of  the 
distant  heaven,  I  never  watch  the  majestic  pro- 
cession of  its  towering  combers  rolling  into  snow 
as  they  run  roaring  after  one  another  in  the  wake 
of  the  rushing  and  living  storm,  without  a  leaping 
up  of  the  spirit — an  intoxicating  sense  of  being 
about  six  years  old — a  feeling,  I  will  say,  of 
triumphant  gladness,  as  though  in  the  mere  pre- 
sence and  voice  of  the  glorious  ocean  there  was 
something  to  deepen  and  sweeten  life  at  its  inmost 
sources,  and  to  purify  and  ennoble  the  spiritual 
part  of  me,  and  of  you,  and  of  every  other  living 
human  creature  whose  forehead  does  not  slope  into 
idiocy,  with  inspirations  which  come  very  near  to 
being  revelations." 

He  watched  me  with  an  amused  face,  as  if  he 
should  say,  "Come,  my  young  relative,  did  you 
think  I  could  only  talk  slang  through  my  nose? 
"What  d'ye  say  to  this  as  a  sample  of  my  parts  ?  " 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  England?"  I 
asked,  hardly'  knowing  what  to  make  of  this 
singular  and  certainly  striking  compound  that  was 


16  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

sitting  and  smoking  before  me,  and  calling  itself 
my  uncle. 

"  Near  upon  eighteen  months." 

"And  when  do  you  return  ?  " 

"  Return  !— where  ?  " 

"  Where  you  come  from,"  said  I. 

"  When  I  die,"  he  answered.  "  I'm  here  for  the 
remainder  of  my  natural  life,  and  let  me  hope  that 
your  British  customs  will  let  it  keep  natural.  Yes, 
siree,  I'm  here  to  fix.  I  have  a  house  at  Clifton, 
near  Bristol,  close  to  the  Gorge — d'ye  know  the 
Gorge? — something  to  save  one  many  a  journey 
out  of  this  shallow  little  kingdom,  as  I  never  look 
down  into  it  without  reckoning  myself  abroad  in  a 
nation  of  real  scenery.  In  my  house,  Jack,  you'll 
find  an  aunt  and  two  cousins,  who'll  be  heartily 
glad  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  so  fine  and  manly 
a  beauty  as  you,  and  who'll  like  you  none  the 
worse  for  knowing  what  the  smell  of  tar  resembles." 

I  thanked  him. 

"  When  can  you  come  ?  " 

"  Will  next  Monday  do  ?  "  said  I. 

"  To-day  will  do  better.  There  is  a  fast  train  at 
six.  We  can  meet  at  Padclington  and  travel 
together.  How  long  d'ye  need  to  pack  up  your 
silver  buckles  and  pomatum  ?  " 

Now,  that  "day  would  have  suited  me  as  well  as 
any  other.  I  had  nothing  to  do,  and  was  eager  to 
get  out  of  the  sickening,  sweltering  atmosphere  of 


MY  UNCLE   SEYMOUR  17 

London.  But  my  dignity  was  worth  something 
too.  It  would  not  do  to  jump  too  eagerly  into  the 
arms  of  this  uncle  and  his  family.  Let  them  talk 
of  me  a  little,  thought  I,  before  I  heave  in  view, 
that  I  may  get  some  kind  of  importance  out  of 
their  curiosity.  So  I  said  I  should  not  be  able  to 
leave  London  before  Monday,  on  which  my  uncle 
answered,  "All  right.  Suit  yourself.  We'll  look 
out  for  you  on  Monday,"  and  gave  me  his  address 
on  a  card. 

I  inquired  how  he  had  managed  to  find  out  where 
I  lived. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  he:  and  he  began  a  long 
story  of  how  some  months  ago  he  took  a  directory 
and  hunted  through  it  for  my  father's  address ; 
how  he  noticed  that  there  were  three  Thomas 
Seymours  (without  the  Sutherland),  on  whom  he 
called,  but  found  none  of  them  the  man  he  wanted  ; 
how  he  worked  his  way  down  through  older  direc- 
tories until  he  came  across  Thomas  Sutherland 
Seymour,  solicitor,  such  and  such  a  street. 

"  This,"  said  he,  "I  reckoned  to  be  my  brother ; 
but  when  I  called  at  the  office  the  clerks  they 
treated  me  as  if  I  had  come  to  make  fools  of  them. 
They  knew  nothing  of  Thomas  Sutherland  Seymour. 
To  cut  this  yarn  short,  time  passed,  and  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  if  my  brother  was  alive  it  was 
not  the  will  of  Heaven  that  I  should  find  him.     My 

wife  said,  '  It  serves  you  right.      You  never  wrote 
vol.  i.  c 


18  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

to  him,  and  now  that  you  are  anxious  to  see  a 
family  face  again,  fate  steps  in,  takes  a  hitch  over  a 
belaying-pin  with  the  hauling  part  of  your  wishes, 
and  stops  the  tackle  from  travelling.'  Those,"  con- 
tinued he,  after  a  little  pause,  during  which  time 
he  had  slyly  watched  the  face  of  astonishment  I 
had  put  on  on  hearing  that  I  had  an  aunt  who 
could  talk  in  that  fashion,  "were  not  exactly  her 
words,  but  that  is  no  doubt  what  she  meant.  Well, 
yesterday  I  came  up  from  Bristol,  and  in  the  rail- 
way carriage  met  a  young  man,  and  got  into  talk 
with  him.  One  thing  led  to  another.  I  spoke  of 
my  brother,  of  the  bigness  of  the  world  when  you 
want  to  discover  a  man,  and  its  littleness  when  you 
don't  want  a  man  to  discover  you.  '  What's  your 
brother's  name  ?  '  asked  the  young  gentleman.  I 
told  him.  '  What  was  he  ?  '  said  he.  '  A  solici- 
tor,' says  I.  '  Well,'  said  he,  '  I  know  a  young 
fellow  named  John  Sutherland  Seymour,  and  think 
I  have  heard  him  say  his  father  was  a  lawyer.  I 
don't  know  his  private  address,  but  he  belongs  to  a 
club  I  am  member  of,  and  if  you  care  to  call  I  have 
no  doubt  the  porter  will  be  able  to  tell  you  where 
he  lives.'     That's  how  I  found  you  out,  sir." 

"  Stranger  things  have  happened  than  that,"  said 
I,  "  and  yet  it  is  extraordinary  enough  that  you 
should  have  met  with  a  man  able  to  cast  off  the 
hauling  part  of  your  wishes,  and  so  prove  him- 
self stronger  than  fate." 


MY  UNCLE   SEYMOUR.  19 

11  Similes  of  that  kind  recall  your  old  life,  hey, 
Jack  ?  Is  that  why  you  drag  up  the  words  again 
and  fondle  'eni  ?  "  He  came  to  the  window  for  air, 
and  said,  "Are  you  in  business?  Do  you  do  any- 
thing ?    Are  you  getting  money  in  any  fashion  ?  " 

"No,"  I  replied;  "  I  am  an  idle  man,  and  I'm 
trying  to  find  out  whether  I  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  being  idle.  I'm  afraid  the  sea  has  unfitted  me 
for  business.  I  am  in  hope  of  cultivating  some 
promptings  in  that  direction,  though  upon  my 
honour  I  doubt  if  I  have  a  single  quality  that 
would  be  of  the  least  use  to  me  in  any  shore-going 
capacity." 

u  That's  very  likely,"  said  my  uncle.  "  But  what 
do  you  want  with  business  ?  Haven't  you  enough 
to  live  on  ?  " 

""Why,  perhaps  I  have.  But  don't  you  see," 
said  I,  slightly  warmed  by  observing  that  he  had 
not  helped  me  in  the  smallest  degree  in  my  apology 
for  doing  nothing  and  being  nothing,  "that  I  want 
to  excuse  myself  for  my  idleness,  which  should 
satisfy  you  that  I  do  not  think  idleness  good  ?  " 

••"What  made  you  give  up  the  sea?"  he  asked, 
laughing  behind  his  beard. 

"  Didn't  I  explain,  sir  ?  I  said  it  was  having  an 
income  left  me.  Nor  was  that  all.  You  have  been 
to  sea,  and  know  what  the  life  is.  Who  would  be  a 
slave  ?  Yet  I  was  when  at  sea,  as  all  sailors  are- 
running  here  and  there  to   other  people's  orders, 


20  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

pulling  and  hauling,  furling,  reefing,  and  greasing. 
choked  with  doughboys  and  hishee-hashee,  snatch- 
ing at  sleep  and  catching  a  wink  as  a  man  on  a 
yard-arm  might  try  to  grasp  a  booby,  and  managing 
to  come  off  with  a  feather  out  of  the  fowl's  tail." 

"  Ay,"  cried  my  uncle,  grinning  extravagantly r 
"  and  let  us  hear  what  shape  the  slush-pot  has,, 
and  how  the  head-pump  is  rigged,  and  how  a  man 
feels  who  is  one  of  a  short-handed  crew  when  all 
hands  are  called  !  Oh,  the  happiness  of  passing 
a  week  with  the  galley-fire  washed  out,  nothing 
but  frost  and  sleet  and  wind  on  deck,  and  water 
and  darkness  and  streaming  togs  below,  weevils 
in  the  bread-barge,  rats  in  the  mess-kids,  and 
the  scuttle-butt  smelling  as  sweet  as  the  Thames 
off  the  Isle  of  Dogs  ;  a  temperance  ship  where  all 
the  lush  is  aft;  a  shoddy  ship  whose  owners 
fall  distracted  and  tear  then  hair  and  gnash  their 
teeth  every  time  the  old  sieve  is  reported  still 
afloat  and  in  league  with  the  underwriters." 

Then,  looking  at  me  very  gravely,  "  Pray,  young 
man,"  says  he,  "  where  did  you  get  your  gab 
from  ?    Not  from  my  brother  Tom  ?  " 

"I  must  have  got  it  from  you,"  I  replied;  "it 
is  evidently  in  the  family." 

"Well,"  says  he,  "all  that  I  can  say  is,  a  young 
fellow  who  can  talk  as  you  do  ought  to  find  life 
larger  than  the  West  End  of  London.  How  do 
you  pass  your  days  ?  " 


MY  UNCLE  SEYMOUR  21 

"  I  knock  about,"  I  answered,  laughing  heartily, 
for  there  was  something  so  funny  in  his  manner 
that  it  was  like  talking  to  a  comedian. 

•  •  Why  don't  you  get  married  ?  If  I  were  your 
-age  and  had  all  the  world  before  me,  I'd  view 
marriage  as  an  industry,  and  start  in  business 
as  a  husband.  Make  no  mistake,  Jack.  There 
are  are  some  decent  pickings  to  be  found  in  that 
calling."  He  saved  me  from  replying  by  pulling 
out  his  watch  and  exclaiming,  "  I  have  an  ap- 
pointment at  four.  I'm  sorry  you  can't  manage 
to  meet  me  at  Paddington.  But  we  shall  see 
you  on  Monday  ?" 

"  Without  fail,  sir,  all  being  well." 

He  laid  hold  of  my  hand,  and  viewing  me 
earnestly  said,  with  a  singular  kindness  and 
gravity  of  voice  and  manner,  "  Jack,  I'm  glad  to 
have  found  you — glad  to  have  met  my  brother's 
laddie.  Old  memories  rise  whilst  I  talk  and  see 
you  standing  up  in  front  of  me,  a  big  man.  Think 
of  Tom  having  been  dead  three  years !  It  makes 
me  feel  as  if  a  century  had  passed  since  I  was 
a  boy.  I  ought  to  have  written  to  him — I  ought 
to  have  made  myself  heard  of — there's  much  I 
should  have  done.  But  see  here,  Jack.  God's  peace 
be  with  him !  d'ye  know  it  was  he  who  would 
chime  in  with  your  grandfather  against  me  ;  tell 
the  old  man  that  the  sea  was  the  only  fit  place 
for  such  a  rapscallion  as  I — for  such  a  skylarking 


22  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

son  of  a  gun  who  was  always  kissing  the  servant 
girls,  running  into  debt  with  landlords,  and  coming 
home  with  dancing  eyes  and  light  heels  at  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning?  He  was  right,  and  the 
old  man  was  right ;  hut  I'll  tell  you  a  big  truth, 
Jack.  It's  possible  for  folks  to  be  right  and  to 
be  wrong  too.  Man  alive!  I  was  not  a  rascal, 
but  a  loose  human  arrangement  with  the  makings 
of  a  fellow-creature  in  me;  an  unravelled  rope 
whose  strands  wanted  twisting  up  and  whose  end 
wanted  whipping;  and  when  I  came  to  be  a 
man,  got  a  bit  of  money,  married  and  passed 
into  what  ye  might  call  a  municipal  entity — a 
thing  interested  in  rates,  drainage,  and  fellow- 
townsmen — the  bile  would  rise  in  my  gorge  when 
I  thought  of  Thomas  and  home,  and  I  never 
could  bring  myself  to  hold  out  my  hand  in  a 
letter.  It  was  a  traditional  prejudice,  but  I  left 
it  t'other  side  the  water  when  I  sailed  with  the 
wife  and  the  girls  for  the  old  country.  Another 
day  you  shall  tell  me  where  my  brother  rests. 
Meanwhile,  God  bless  ye,  and — and  don't  fail  us 
on  Monday  next." 

So  saying  he  pulled  on  his  wideawake,  grasped 
his  stick,  and  scuttled  out  of  the  room,  trotting 
downstairs  so  nimbly  as  to  defy  my  efforts  to 
pass  him  in  order  to  be  first  with  the  hall  door. 


(     23     ) 


CHAPTER    III. 

I    GO    TO    CLIFTON. 

This  conversation  with  my  uncle  took  place 
before  my  story  properly  opens,  and  if  I  were 
an  artist,  perhaps  I  should  leave  it  out  for  that 
reason ;  but  apart  from  its  being  as  good  as  a 
joke,  and  showing  besides  how  it  happened  that 
I  went  on  a  visit  to  Clifton,  it  enables  me  to 
tell  you  in  a  pleasing  manner  a  good  deal 
about  myself,  and  likewise  it  explains  who  my 
uncle  was,  and  why  he  was  a  stranger  to  me. 

You  may  talk  as  you  please  about  the  beauty 
of  foreign  parts.  I've  seen  some  grand  shows 
in  that  way  in  my  time,  as  what  sailor  has  not? 
But  had  I  never  viewed  anything  finer  than  Clif- 
ton— that  part  of  it,  I  mean,  which  they  call  the 
Gorge — I  should  still  be  able  to  boast  of  having 
beheld  as  lovely  a  bit  of  nature  as  any  part  of  the 
world  has  to  offer.  "What  fixes  it  in  my  memory 
was  the  sunset.  I  had  tumbled  into  an  open 
rly — quite    a    genteel    turn-out — along    with    my 


24  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

portmanteau,  and  when  we  had  climbed  a  steep 
hill  and  had  got  on  top  of  it  and  rolled  along 
some  distance,  I  stood  up  and  saw  a  sky  full  of 
•the  magnificence  of  a  score  of  glorious  colours, 
against  which  the  heavy  foliage  and  green  heights 
which  tower  above  the  valley,  in  whose  heart 
the  silver  Avon  (at .  flood-tide,  mind  you)  winds 
like  a  stream  of  mercury,  stood  out  dark, 
massive,  dense,  the  gold  of  the  sky  trembling 
among  the  iibrine  fringe  of  the  wooded  acclivi- 
ties; and  layers  or  folds  of  emerald,  sapphire, 
rose,  scarlet  like  incandescent  iron,  sunbright 
effulgence  like  that  of  molten  steel  in  a  retort 
swept  by  -the  hurricane  of  a  steam-created  blast, 
stretching  their  most  beautiful  lengths  along 
until  their  extremities  faded  in  the  black  vapour 
of  a  huge  cloud,  from  whose  sooty,  stooping  belly 
green  sparks  of  lightning  were  crackling  and 
glittering,  whilst  the  thunder  moaned  like  the  voice 
of  a  lion  heard  roaring  in  pain  in  some  distant 
resonant  forest. 

The  house  abreast  of  which  the  driver  hove  his 
horse  to  was  a  small  mansion,  with  about  an  acre 
of  ground  in  front  of  it  full  of  flowers,  high  trees,  a 
fountain,  and  so  forth.  A  man-servant  in  a  black 
suit  and  white  necktie  opened  the  door,  and  I 
marched  in,  but  was  scarcely  entered  when  my 
uncle,  rushing  along,  received  me  with  a  shout  of 
welcome,   and  dragged    me,    travel-stained    as    I 


I   GO  TO   CLIFTON.  2.) 

was,  iuto  a  large  and  exceedingly  elegant  drawing- 
room. 

There  were  four  ladies  there,  one  middle-aged,  the 
others  young,  one  of  these  a  caller,  as  I  supposed, 
with  a  small,  fat,  very  old  dog,  sleek  as  a  rat,  at 
her  feet.  This  tottering  creature  hared  its  teeth  as 
we  entered,  and  delivered  a  few  strange  wheezy 
notes,  on  which  the  young  lady  cried  "Down,  you 
silly  dog  !  hush,  you  foolish  old  Flora  !  "  and  in 
the  midst  of  this  my  uncle  introduced  me. 

The  middle-aged  lady  was  my  aunt,  a  tall 
woman,  still  handsome,  with  plenty  of  black  hair, 
dark  eyes,  a  fine  figure,  and  wearing  what  women 
call  "  a  train,"  so  long  that  the  end  of  it  remained 
at  her  chair  after  she  had  risen  and  advanced 
some  paces  to  meet  and  welcome  me.  Two  of  the 
others  were  my  cousins,  both  of  them  plump,  fair 
girls,  not  pretty,  but  with  very  kind  faces  and 
pleasant  smiles.  I  liked  their  manners  amazingly 
— I  mean  I  heartily  relished  the  way  in  which  they 
received  me ;  no  affectation,  no  hanging  back,  no 
smirking,  and  yet  there  was  a  pretty  modesty  in 
their  air,  too. 

But  the  third  young  lady  !  My  uncle  on  intro- 
ducing me  to  her  had  called  her  Miss  Hawke,  and 
I  learnt  what  her  Christian  name  was  by  one  of 
my  cousins  saying,  "  Don't  mind  her,  Florence 
dear,"  when  her  dog  barked,  and  she  rebuked  the 
infirm  old  beast.     Florence  Hawke,  then,  was  her 


26  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

name,  and  when  you  get  deeper  into  this  book — 
which  you  are  bound  to  do,  for  a  stranger  yarn  you 
never  read  in  your  life — you'll  understand  why  I 
have  it  so  pat  and  am  able  to  write  it  down  with- 
out scratching  the  back  of  my  head  and  looking 
aloft  for  the  words. 

How  am  I  to  describe  her  ?  Mates,  on  the 
honour  of  a  gentleman  who  would  not  tell  a  lie  to 
gratify  the  conceit  of  the  finest  woman  living,  I 
swear  that  in  my  opinion  Florence  Hawke  was 
the  sweetest  little  creature  at  that  or  any  other 
time  to  be  found  in  this  country.  And  why  do  I 
call  her  little  ?  Faith,  she  was  not  so  little  either. 
When  we  stood  side  by  side  the  top  of  her  sunny 
aromatic  head  was  on  a  level  with  my  ear.  But 
little,  somehow,  is  the  adjective  that  will  come 
shoving  into  my  thoughts  when  I  speak  of  her, 
because,  perhaps,  of  the  winning  simplicity  of  her 
manner,  the  childlike  earnestness  of  her,  her  pretty 
delightful  ways,  which  had  a  certain  charming 
babyishness  about  them. 

I  say,  how  am  I  to  describe  her  ?  If  all  the 
colours  the  very  royallest  academician  now  living 
knows  how  to  mix  would  fail — as  don't  I  know  they 
would? — to  give  you  the  exquisite  delicate  bloom 
on  her  cheeks,  the  velvet,  pearly  whiteness  of  her 
ears,  throat,  forehead,  the  rich  brown  and  gold  of 
her  plentiful,  beautiful  hair,  the  sweet  clear  carving 
of  her  nostrils  and  brow,  the  dark  yet  luminous 


I  GO   TO   CLIFTON.  27 

gray  of  her  large  eyes,  oh  !  not  to  mention  the  soul 
in  them,  the  flashing  spirit  of  intelligence,  the 
magic  play  of  emotion,  what  am  I  to  do  with  ink  ? 
What  am  I  to  make  of  such  perfections  when  I 
have  no  better  brush  in  my  hand  than  a  pen  to 
paint  them  with  ?  And  yet,  though  it  is  more 
than  twenty  years  ago,  I  see  her  as  she  turned  to 
bow  and  smile,  when  my  uncle  introduced  me,  as 
plainly  now  as  I  did  then — the  very  pretty  hat,  the 
long  black  feather  tenderly  coiling  over  the  back  of 
her  hair  towards  her  neck  as  if  to  kiss  it,  the  plaid 
dress — no,  not  plaid,  check  I  mean,  small  black 
and  white  bars  crossing,  the  material, — silk  would 
it  be  ? — fitting  her  like  the  glove  upon  her  hand, 
and  expressing  without  emphasizing  (as  every  good 
dressmaker  knows  how)  just  the  type  of  figure  a 
man's  eye  loves  to  dwell  on ;  a  really  beautiful 
shape  with  a  perfectly  proportioned  waist,  not  one 
of  those  hiatuses  in  the  meaning  of  the  female 
body  which  bequeaths  all  the  sense  that  ought  to 
lie  amidships  to  the  hips.  Yes,  I  see  her  now  as  I 
saw  her  then,  and  yet  I  cannot  describe  her.  A 
great  pity,  for  on  my  word  of  honour  she  was  the 
sweetest  woman  living,  and  ought  to  be  handled 
by  an  artist  instead  of  a  shell-back  still  smelling  of 
the  pitch-kettle. 

Well,  the  talk,  of  course,  would  be  mere  common- 
place at  this  start.  My  aunt  expressed  her  joy 
at   her   husband  having  found  me  out;    she  was 


28  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

delighted  to  see  me ;  did  I  know  Clifton  ?  she 
was  sure  I  should  be  charmed  with  the  scenery, 
and  so  on.  And  then  my  uncle  hurst  forth  : 
"Conie,  Jack,  let  me  show  you  your  room.  We 
dine  at  eight,  which  is  an  hour  later  than  usual," 
and  we  went  upstairs. 

If  my  visit  were  going  to  make  any  lengthened 
portion  of  this  story,  I  should  be  tempted  to  write 
a  page  or  two  about  this  house  in  which  I  found 
my  uncle  and  his  family  living,  for  nothing  corn- 
jdeter  and  better  in  its  wa}r  have  I  ever  seen.  I 
admired  everything  as  I  went  upstairs,  my  uncle 
showing  the  road  with  a  delighted  face — the  fine 
stone  staircase,  the  conservatories,  the  decorations, 
and  the  like — until  we  came  to  a  large  bedroom 
lighted  by  a  number  of  candles,  as  handsome  a 
room  as  a  king's  guest  could  expect,  and,  in  this 
country,  perhaps  a  better  than  he  would  get,  with 
an  open  window  looking  on  to  the  front  grounds, 
which  lay  dark  in  the  shadow  of  the  twilight,  a 
hundred  sweet  scents  floating  up  out  of  them  on 
the  dew-laden  folds  of  air  that  stirred  softly.  The 
stars  were  dropping  into  their  places,  a  faint  haze 
of  crimson  lingered  in  the  west,  and  now  and  again 
the  sky  was  tinged  with  the  delicate  violet  glare  of 
lightning;  and  pretty  amid  the  stillness  was  the 
tinkling  music  played  by  the  fountain. 

"After    London,"    said     I,     "this     is    indeed 
delightful !  " 


I   GO   TO   CLIFTOX.  29 

"  Well,  ray  boy,  you  are  heartily  welcome — most 
heartily  welcome,"  exclaimed  my  uncle,  clapping 
me  on  the  shoulder.  "  Don't  trouble  to  dress  for 
dinner;  we're  very  homely — at  least  I  am,  and 
hate  any  kind  of  fuss." 

He  then  went  away,  and  shortly  afterwards  I 
followed  him  to  the  drawing-room,  where  I  found 
all  the  family  but  my  Cousin  Amelia,  Miss  Hawke, 
as  I  supposed,  having  left.  I  took  a  seat  near  my 
mint,  and  was  about  to  tell  her  how  surprised  I 
had  been  by  her  husband's  visit,  when  something 
under  my  chair  touched  my  leg.  I  hopped  up,  and 
on  looking  perceived  that  it  was  Miss  Hawke's  old 
terrier. 

M  What  did  you  think,  Jack — that  it  was  a  rat  ?  " 
cried  my  uncle,  laughing  at  the  manner  in  which  I 
had  whipped  on  to  my  feet. 

"  Isn't  it  Miss  Hawke's  dog  ?  "  said  I. 

11  Yes,"  replied  my  aunt ;  "  we  have  induced  her 
to  stay  and  dine  with  us." 

"  Not  the  dog,  but  Miss  Hawke,  Jack,"'  said  my 
uncle. 

'•'Don't  you  think  her  very  pretty,  Mr.  Seymour?" 
said  my  Cousin  Sophie. 

"Mr.  Seymour!"  shouted  my  uncle;  "whoever 
heard  a  girl  call  her  cousin  '  mister  *  before  ?  My 
dear  Sophie,  yonder  young  fellow  is  your  Cousin 
Jack ;  pray  call  him  so,  and  make  him  feel  that  he 
is  with  relatives." 


30  JACK'S   COUKTSHIP. 

"Ay,  please  do,"  said  I. 

She  blushed  and  laughed  and  said,  "Very  well, 
I  will  call  you  Jack." 

"  Yes,  Sophie,"  I  replied,  plumping  out  her  name, 
"  I  do  think  Miss  Hawke  very  pretty — wonderfully 
pretty." 

"  You're  right,  nephew,"  said  my  uncle  ;  "in  all 
my  travels  I  never  came  across  anything  sweeter — 
the  object  of  my  earliest  affections  alone  excepted," 
giving  his  wife  a  bow. 

"  She's  an  Australian,"  said  my  aunt. 

"  Indeed !  "  I  exclaimed,  though  why  I  should 
have  said  "  Indeed  !  "  in  a  tone  of  surprise  I  really 
do  not  know,  for  is  not  Australia  as  rich  in  pretty 
women  as  any  other  country  or  continent — allowing 
for  numbers  ? 

"  Yes,"  said  my  aunt ;  "  she  was  born  in  Australia. 
Her  father  made  his  money  out  there,  and  we  believe 
he  is  a  very  rich  man.  He  lives  in  a  fine  house  a 
short  walk  from  here." 

"  I  made  his  acquaintance  in  a  j  ourney  to  London," 
said  my  uncle.  "  His  Christian  name  is  Alphonso, 
and  I  have  heard  Florence  talk  of  one  Damaris 
Hawke,  an  aunt  who  lives  in  Australia.  What  d'ye 
think,  Jack,  of  Alphonso  and  Damaris  as  a  pair  of 
names  for  a  small  tea-party  ?  He's  a  pompous  old 
chap — between  you  and  me,  a  bit  of  a  prig — with 
strong  aristocratic  leanings  ;  man,  you  should  see 
his  crest !     Yet,  in  spite  of  my  democratic  wide- 


I   GO   TO   CLIFTOX.  31 

awake  and  the  republican  cut  of  my  jib,"  said  lie, 
looking  down  at  his  clothes,  which  were  of  the  same 
pattern  as  those  he  had  worn  when  he  called  upon 
me,  "  he  was  pleased  to  exchange  cards,  and  on  his 
return  from  town  called  with  his  daughter.'' 

"What  I  like  most  in  Florence  Hawke,"  said 
Sophie,  "  is  her  unaffectedness.  She  is  very  pretty, 
she  will  no  doubt  be  very  rich,  but  she  is  quite  un- 
spoiled, and  as  artless  and  simple  as  a  little  girl." 

"  She  will  of  course  have  many  admirers,"'  said  I. 

"  She  might  have,  you  may  take  your  affidavit," 
answered  my  uncle,  "  but  her  father's  a  taut  hand, 
my  girls  say,  and  nobody  dare  go  near.  AYhafs  the 
name  of  the  youngster,  Sophia,  old  Hawke  is  tacking 
to  fetch  •? " 

"  Eeginald  Moreeorabe,"  replied  my  aunt.  "  His 
father  is  a  baronet,  and  Mr.  Eeginald  will  get  the 
title.  There's  something  I  do  not  much  like  in 
views  of  that  kind  in  parents.  I  have  only  met 
Mr.  Moreconibe  once,  but  once  was  enough  to  dis- 
cover that  he  is  a  very  simpering  young  man, 
rather  conceited,  very  much  given  to  boasting 
about  what  he  and  Mr.  Hawke  call  blood,  and 
quite  capable,  no  doubt,  of  believing  that  he  would 
be  doing  this  beautiful  girl  much  honour  by  taking 
her  papa's  money  in  exchange  for  his  name."' 

"  Self-made  Australians  are  generally  fond  of 
titles,"'  said  Sophie. 

"We're  all  fond  of  titles,"  said  I.     "  I  for  one 


32  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

should  be  well  pleased  to  be  •  a  lord  ;  not  because  I 
value  the  rank,  but  because  I  value  the  world's 
valuation  of  it." 

"  In  my  opinion,"  observed  my  aunt,  "  the  very 
worst  man  a  girl  can  have  for  a  husband  is  a  fool." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  my  uncle ;  "a  woman  can 
never  get  lower  than  that." 

"  But  Florence  has  to  marry  Mir.  Morecombe  first,, 
mamma,"  said  Sophie. 

At  this  point  of  a  conversation  that  was  both 
interesting  and  instructive  Miss  Hawke  and  Amelia 
came  in.  Amelia  was  stouter,  let  me  say  fatter, 
than  Sophie;  she  had  three  chins  and  a  bust  as 
plump  as  the  bows  of  a  galliot.  I  doubt  if  Miss 
Hawke  could  have  chosen  a  better  contrast  for  her 
own  delightful  shape,  and  as  they  entered  and 
crossed  the  room  side  by  side,  I  not  only  found 
my  eyes  rivetted  to  the  beautiful  face  of  this  young 
Australian  lady,  and  my  head  rotating  after  her,  as 
you  may  see  a  little  metal  duck  in  a  basin  of  water 
follow  a  magnet,  but  I  was  surprised  by  a  queer 
fluttering  sensation  under  my  waistcoat ;  a  feeling 
as  if  my  heart  had  got  out  of  gear  and  were  rolling 
about  on  a  ground- swell  of  emotion. 

However,  no  time  was  allowed  me  to  consider 
what  this  might  mean.  Scarcely  had  the  young 
ladies  entered,  when  the  man-servant  was  seen 
standing  in  the  door,  exclaiming  that  dinner  was 
ready.     We  trooped  into  the  dining-room,  my  aunt 


I  GO  TO   CLIFTON.  oo 

on  ray  arm  and  Miss  Hawke  on  my  uncle's,  and 
took  our  seats.  Here  was  another  fine  apartment, 
with  large  portraits  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seymour  facing- 
each  other,  and  the  soft  light  of  wax  candles  and 
sperm  oil  to  dine  hy.  Miss  Hawke  sat  opposite  me, 
just  clear  of  the  flowers  in  the  centre  of  the  table, 
so  that  I  had  her  full  in  sight  throughout  the  dinner. 
I  will  not  say  that  she  looked  more  bewitching 
without  her  hat ;  let  her  go  dressed  as  she  chose 
she  would  have  been  fascinating — upon  my  word, 
even  my  uncle's  wideawake  would  have  become 
her !  But  if  she  did  not  look  more  bewitching, 
she  was  not  less  so  now  that  her  hair  was  exposed, . 
with  its  dainty  little  parting  on  the  left  side  vanish- 
ing amid  a  soft  mass  of  clustering  fluffy  silken  locks 
on  her  white  forehead,  and  coils  of  thick  plaits 
crowning  her,  and  a  rose — a  small  newly-blown 
rose — glimmering  like  a  jewel  among  those  most 
lovely  folds. 

For  the  first  time  that  ever  I  can  remember  I 
felt  nervous  in  the  presence  of  a  lady — yes,  this 
girl  sitting  opposite  to  me,  and  bringing  from  time 
to  time  the  whole  broadside  of  her  beauty  and 
intelligence  to  bear  by  letting  her  eyes  rest  on  me 
with  a  kind  of  inquiry  in  them,  as  if  she  were 
quietly  taking  stock  of  the  young  sailorified  chap 
fronting  her,  and  wondering  if  he  was  really  a 
nautical  man,  and  if  not,  what  business  he  had  in 
seeming  one  ;  I  say,  that  at  the  start  Miss  Florence 

VOL.  I.  d 


34  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

Hawke  made  me  feel  as  shy  as  a  schoolboy  at  an 
evening  party.  Positively,  at  one  moment  I  was 
so  nervous  that  I  did  not  dare  lift  a  glass  of  wine 
for  fear  of  spilling  it  over  what  a  tailor  would  call 
my  continuations. 

Fortunately  for  me,  however,  my  uncle  talked 
incessantly,  so  that  what  with  having  to  listen  to 
him,  and  what  with  having  to  attend  to  what  the 
servants  put  before  them,  the  others  were  too  busy 
to  notice  my  manner.  At  all  events,  I  thought  so, 
and  that  helped  me  greatly  in  working  myself  on 
to  a  level  keel  again. 

All  the  conversation  at  the  going  off  was  about 
my  father,  about  my  uncle's  discovery  of  me,  and 
so  forth. 

"How  nice  it  must  be,  Mr.  Seymour,  to  meet 
with  relations  unexpectedly !  "  said  Miss  Hawke 
to  me. 

"Yes,"  I  stammered,  "very  nice  indeed — at 
least,  I  mean,  it  depends."  And  here,  seeing  that 
I  bade  fair  to  make  an  ass  of  myself,  I  laid  hold  of 
my  nerves  and  said,  "  When  I  say  depends,  I 
should  explain,  Miss  Hawke,  that  relations  unex- 
pectedly met  are  not  always  nice.  As  an  instance, 
imagine  a  man  addressing  a  room  full  of  electors  ; 
he  wants  the  voters  to  believe  him  not  only  a  Tory 
but  a  well-connected  man.  In  the  midst  of  his 
speech  a  noise  is  heard,  and  a  woman,  disguised 
in  liquor,  with  a  bonnet  on  her  back,  shoves  through 


I  GO  TO  CLIFTON.  35 

the  door,  saying,  '  I  have  a  right  to  be  here  ;  he  is 
my  brother !  '" 

This  produced  a  laugh,  and  reminded  my  uncle 
of  an  anecdote,  the  telling  of  which  took  the  con- 
versation off  the  course  it  had  been  steering,  for 
which  I  was  grateful,  as  I  was  nervous  and  apt  on 
such  a  topic  as  relations  to  be  yauche,  and  even 
offensive,  without  meaning  it.  My  aunt  now  asked 
me  questions  about  myself — how  long  had  I  been 
at  sea?  what  induced  me  to  abandon  it?  what 
IDarts  of  the  world  I  had  sailed  into  ?  My  answers 
were  listened  to  with  great  attention  ;  indeed,  my 
two  cousins  took  a  most  flattering  interest  in  me, 
and  by  a  kind  of  sisterly  sympathy  of  smile  and 
look — I  do  not  know  how  else  to  describe  a  manner 
that  was  immediately  and  pleasantly  sensible  to  me 
— made  me  feel,  long  before  we  had  finished  dinner, 
that  I  had  known  them  since  they  were  children. 

I  saw  Miss  Hawke  round  her  lovely  eyes  when  I 
talked  of  the  sea,  and  mentioned  having  been  to 
Sydney,  New  South  Wales. 

"What  did  you  think  of  the  bay?"  she  asked. 
4t  Is  it  not  lovely  ?  I  was  born  in  Sydney  ;  but  it 
is  not  because  that  town  is  my  native  place  that  I 
consider  its  bay  must  be  the  beautifulest  scene  in 
the  world.1' 

"It  is  beautiful !  "  I  exclaimed  warmly,  excited 
into  enthusiasm  by  her  advocacy.  Had  she  praised 
the  kangaroo  for  its  graceful  movements,  I  should 


36  JACK'S  COUETSHIP. 

have  sworn  that  the  capers  of  a  Taglioni  or  a 
Vestris  were  not  a  patch  upon  the  poetical  motions 
of  that  animal.     "  Do  you  know  it,  uncle  ?  " 

"Well,"  answered  he,  "it  is  very  fine,  but  it 
don't  come  up  to  Eio." 

"Oh  yes,  it  does,"  said  I.  "Miss  Hawke,  be 
quite  easy ;  Sydney  Bay  tops  the  whole  world's 
scenery  for  beauty." 

My  uncle  laughed,  and  so  did  my  aunt,  and  I 
saw  my  cousins  exchange  a  faint  smile,  all  which 
made  me  suppose  that  something  more  was  to  be 
seen  in  my  manner  than  I  had  any  idea  was  visible 
or  even  existing.  I  cast  my  eyes  down  and  re- 
volved a  wine-glass  on  the  table,  whilst  my  uncle 
asked  Miss  Hawke  if  she  liked  sailors. 

Miss  Haw  Ice.     Very  much  indeed. 

My  Uncle.  That's  brave.  Whenever  I  recall 
my  old  profession  I  love  to  believe  that  the  ladies 
like  sailors. 

Sophie.  Sailors  are  so  unconventional ;  I  always 
think  them  the  best  society  in  the  world,  for  that 
reason.  There  is  no  nonsense,  no  hunting  about 
for  compliments  and  neat  sayings.  What  they 
feel  they  say.  And  then  their  conversation  is  full 
of  colour,  for  they  are  always  travelling  and  seeing 
something  new.     I  like  sailors.     (With  emphasis). 

Amelia.     So  do  I. 

Myself.  I  wish  I  were  still  at  sea  ;  I  should  be 
able  to  bow  to  all  this. 


I   GO   TO   CLIFTON.  37 

My  Uncle.  I  say,  nephew,  what  d'ye  think  of 
Sophie's  idea  of  Jack's  talk  being  full  of  colour  ? 
(Here  he  tipped  me  a  wink.)  Is  it  full  of  colour 
when  the  scuttle  is  thumped  in  a  gale  of  wind  to 
the  roar  of  "All  hands  !  Tumble  up,  my  lively 
hearties  !     Don't  wait  to  shave  !  "  '? 

Miss  Hawke  (laughing).  I  have  heard  that  cry 
of  "All  hands!  "  What  a  pity  there  is  no  short 
cut  to  Australia  !  Cape  Horn  is  very  dreadful ! 
Coming  to  England  this  time  we  nearly  ran  into 
an  iceberg  in  a  snow-storm. 

My  Aunt  (clasping  her  hands).  Just  think  if 
}*ou  had  run  into  it ! 

Mysdf.  How  often  have  you  made  the  voyage, 
Miss  Hawke  ? 

Miss  Hawke.     Twice. 

Myself.    Are  you  likely  to  return  to  Australia  ? 

Miss  II niche.  I  think  not.  I  cannot  say.  Papa 
will  certainly  never  return  to  stop  there.  He 
prefers  England. 

My  Uncle.     And  you  ? 

Miss  Hawke.  I  like  Clifton;  but  I  wish  we 
could  get  the  Australian  climate  here.  It  is  always 
either  too  hot  or  too  cold. 

Myself.  Do  you  not  prefer  London  to  the 
country  ? 

Miss  Hawke.     No;  and  papa  hates  London. 

My  Uncle.  And  so  do  I.  Life  is  too  stiff  in 
London.    Here,  if  I  Wear  a  wideawake  nobody  takes 


38  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

any  notice ;  in  London  people  stare  as  if  I  were  a 
patriot.  And  look,  Miss  Florence,  how  easily  and 
pleasantly  one  forms  acquaintances  and  makes 
friends  in  the  country.  "We  have  not  been  here 
very  long,  and  already  we  know  many  persons,  and 
one  delightful  lady  (bowing  to  her),  who  kindly 
takes  us  as  we  are,  dispenses  with  all  the  formalities 
which  would  hedge  her  about  in  London,  and  make 
her  charming  society  a  luxury  to  be  obtained  only 
at  long  intervals. 

My  Aunt  (speaking  doubtfully).  I  should  net 
very  much  care  to  live  in  London.  The  society 
that  is  worth  having  is  very  difficult  to  get. 

My  Uncle.     And  when  got,  not  worth  having. 

Miss  Hawke.  Papa  likes  ceremony,  but  I  don't. 
I  enjoy  unexpected  things  :  an  impromptu  carpet- 
dance,  dining  out  as  I  am  now.  When  you  are  asked 
to  anything,  you  anticipate  the  pleasure  of  it,  and 
that  is  why  set  affairs  are  often  disappointing. 

My  Uncle.  We  are  unconventional  enough.  I 
never  could  endure  any  fuss.  My  wife  and  I  have 
had  to  rough  it  in  a  country  where  people  who 
suffer  from  corns  have  no  business  to  live ;  for 
boots  over  there  are  heavy,  and  folks  are  given  to 
shoving  and  stamping.  My  daughters  are  like 
their  parents ;  they  take  short  views  and  simple 
ones.  Sophie — Amelia — your  health,  my  loves. 
May  you  marry  men  of  sense,  and  live  for  your- 
selves instead  of  for  vour  neighbours.     (He  smiled 


I   GO   TO   CLIFTOX.  39 

affectionately  at  them  over  a  glass  of  claret.)    When 
do  you  expect  your  father  back,  Miss  Florence  ? 

Miss  Hawke.     To-inorrow. 

My  Aunt.     Will  he  bring  Emily  with  him  ? 

Miss  Hawke.     Yes;  and  Mr.  Morecombe. 

My  cousins  exchanged  looks,  and  the  merest 
shadow  of  a  smile  flitted  over  Miss  Hawke's  sweet 
mouth  as  she  stole  a  glance  at  Sophie.  Evidently 
this  Mr.  Morecombe  was  a  not  wholly  unfamiliar 
topic  amongst  these  three  young  ladies. 

"  Don't  you  feel  alone  in  your  big  house  ? " 
asked  my  uncle. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  I  never  feel  dull.  I 
rather  like  being  alone — sometimes." 

Evidently  she  has  no  mother,  thought  I.  By 
this  time  my  nervousness  had  worn  off,  and  I  could 
take  peeps  at  her  with  some  degree  of  confidence. 
Why  did  fate  place  me  plump  opposite  her  ?  I 
would  look  from  her  to  the  beautiful  cluster  of 
flowers  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  and  from  them 
to  her,  until  the  most  exquisite  of  God's  tworks— 
a  lovely  woman's  face  and  the  shining  tints  and 
sweet  forms  of  flowers  and  foliage — were  combined 
in  one  impression ;  so  that  never  after  could  I 
think  of  her  without  associating  her  image  with 
the  white  and  violet  and  purple  petals  which  filled 
the  room  with  a  fragrance  that  seemed  to  me 
as  the  breath  from  her  delicate  lips. 

But,  you  tarpaulin,  you  !    This  is  too  fine  !     This 


-10  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

is  the  mere  ecstasy  of  parish  clatter !  Was  I  in 
love  with  her  then  that  I  should  write  down  all  this 
aromatic  stuff  in  this  place  ?  Alas !  What  do  I 
know  ?  Put  me  on  my  oath  and  I  will  say — Yes  ! 
I  was.  in  love ;  my  peace  of  mind  was  gone  !  I 
had  met  my  fate,  and  sat  beholding  it  with  a 
thumping  heart. 

By-and-by  the  ladies  left  the  room,  and  a  box  of 
cigars  was  put  upon  the  table.  My  uncle  opened 
the  tall  folding  windows,  through  which  you  could 
step  on  to  the  lawn,  and  we  stood  together  to  get 
the  air,  smoking  and  looking  at  the  night.  There 
was  a  small  moon  behind  the  house ;  the  sky  was 
very  black  and  full  of  stars ;  far  away  in  the  quarter 
we  faced  there  was  a  faint  play  of  sheet  lightning, 
scarcely  more  vivid  than  the  silvery  flash  of  the 
meteors  which  broke  out  from  the  dark  air  under 
the  stars  and  sailed  away  in  a  line  of  spangles  ;  a 
delicious  country  silence  reigned  around,  broken 
only  by  the  distant  quick  throbbing  and  rumbling 
noise  of  a  locomotive  dragging  a  train  of  carriages, 
and  by  the  cool  plashing  of  a  fountain,  and  by 
the  rich  notes  of  a  nightingale  piping  hard  by/ 

"  Can't  you  understand  why  I  prefer  this  sort  of 
thing  to  London?  "  exclaimed  my  uncle,  speaking 
through  his  nose,  with  the  Yankee  drawl  I  had 
noticed  in  him  when  we  first  met. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  I  replied;  "I  would  not 
exchange  this  for  London  if  I  had  it." 


J  GO  TO  CLIFTON.  41 

"Pompous  as  old  Hawke  is,  lie's  not  an  ass," 
continued  my  uncle.  "He  sticks  to  Clifton,  which 
proves  that  he  has  intellect.  He  lives  in  a  finer 
house  than  this,  though  he  has  not  the  same  extent 
of  ground.  We'll  go  and  dine  with  him  some  of 
these  nights.  He's  hospitable  enough,  but  a 
damned  old  prig.  He  wants  to  get  a  title  into  his 
family,  and  get  it  he  will,  though  he  has  to  drag  it 
in  by  the  head  and  ears,  and  perhaps  half  murder 
the  poor  girl  he  calls  upon  to  help  him." 

"  I  heard  Miss  Hawke  say  that  young  Mr. 
Morecombe  was  coming  to-morrow  with  the  old 
fellow,"  said  I.  "  How  long  has  this  been  going 
on?" 

"  What  d'ye  mean  ?  How  long  has  young  More- 
combe been  on  the  tappy,  as  Johnny  Crapaud 
says  ?  " 

"Ay." 

"  Two  or  three  months,  I  reckon." 

"  Has  he  proposed  ?  " 

"  Lord  love  ye,  how  do  I  know  ?  but  I  should 
say  not.  This  is  fine  tobacco,  Jack.  Keal  cigars, 
I  caU  these." 

"Yes,"  said  I;  "they  are  very  fine  indeed. 
What  was  Mr.  Hawke  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  believe  he  made  his  money  as  a 
squatter.  He  is  quiet  about  his  beginning; 
possibly  he's  ashamed  of  having  'got  money  by 
working  for  it.      I  reckon   he  squatted.      There's 


42  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

squatting  in  his  soul ;  it  may  be  traced  in  his  walk, 
and  followed,  as  the  poet  says,  in  his  smile." 

"  Have  you  ever  met  his  friend,  Mr.  More- 
combe  ?  "  said  I,  trying  to  make  believe  that  I 
asked  these  questions  merely  for  the  sake  of  talk- 
ing, and  that  I  would  just  as  soon  speak  of  consols, 
or  take  his  views  on  the  molasses  market. 

"  Once ;  I  dined  with  him  at  Hawke's.  A 
puppy,  sir ;  a  poor  creature  with  a  parting  down 
the  middle  of  its  hair  and  a  glass  in  its  eye,  and 
immense  stiff  stick-up  shirt-collars.  Hawke  will 
not  get  his  daughter  to  have  him,  he  may  be 
cocksure  of  that.  She  is  destined  for  a  man,  not 
for  a  monkey.  How  social  she  is  !  This  evening 
Sophie,  who  was  among  the  flowers,  saw  her  pass 
and  called  her  in.  And  then  she  stays  and  dines 
without  requiring  any  further  pressing  than  a  plain 
'  Will  you  ? '  That's  the  sort  of  friendliness  I 
like  in  man  or  woman.  And  my  eye,  nephew! 
what  a  face,  hey  ?  If  I  were  only  a  quarter  of  a 
century  younger — if  I  were  only  a  single  man  !  " 

He  made  several  motions  with  his  arms,  that  by 
dumbshow  he  might  express  the  ecstasy  his  imagi- 
nation flung  him  into,  then  smelt  to  his  cigar  and 
said  that  he  defied  any  importer  in  the  country  ta 
beat  that  brand. 

I  felt  that  he  was  just  one  of  those  men  whom 
a  young  fellow  could  bare  his  soul  to ;  and  nothing 
prevented    me  from  telling  him  how  desperately 


I  GO  TO  CLIFTON.  4& 

impressed  I  was  by  Miss  Florence  Hawke  but  the 
consideration  that  he  had  daughters  of  his  own. 
He  presently  gave  me  a  chance  of  expressing  my 
admiration  of  my  cousins  by  speaking  of  his  wife. 

"  How  d'ye  like  her,  Jack  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much.  She  is  all  kind- 
ness ;  and  is  she  not  a  very  clever  woman  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  a  man  wears  a  diamond  on  his  finger 
there  is  no  reason  why  he  should  talk  about  it  as 
if  he  were  a  jeweller,"  said  he.  "  Sophia  is  my 
wife  :  and  that  fact  belays  all  I  should  like  to  say 
about  her.  But  one  thing  I'll  assert — a  realler 
woman  doesn't  walk  the  surface  of  this  globe. 
There  may  be  women  as  real,  but  nothing  realler. 
There  are  no  half-laughs  and  pursers'  grins  about 
her.  She's  straight  up  and  down,  both  ends  of 
her  bolted  and  clinched  in  the  cast-iron  of  solid 
principles.  Yes,  siree,  your  aunt's  a  woman; 
a  Canadian,  sir — the  daughter  of  a  colony  whose 
females  are  clippers  of  the  first  quality,  handsome 
in  make,  swift  in  action,  staunch  in  build,  faithful 
to  the  hand  that  steers  'em.  And  though  it's  not 
for  me  to  call  your  attention  to  such  matters — more 
particularly  as  they  are  perfectly  obvious — yet  let 
me  suggest  that,  considering  her  age,  you  have 
probably  met  younger  women,  reckoned  handsome 
in  their  way,  without  her  figure,  her  taste  in  dress, 
and  her  complexion.     Eh  ?" 

I  fully  agreed  and  said,  "And  your  daughters? 


4-1  jack's  couktship. 

Have  you  no  word  for  them?  I  declare  I  have 
never  seen  kinder  faces,  nor  been  charmed  by 
gentler  and  more  winning  manners." 

"Ay,  they  are  very  well,  they  are  very  well/' 
he  exclaimed  in  a  soft  voice.  "  They  are  good 
girls.  They  have  sound  hearts.  I  thank  God  for 
that.  A  parent  has  no  right  to  expect  more." 
•  And  whilst  we  finished  our  cigars  he  told  me  of 
his  early  struggles,  what  a  noble  helpmate  he  had 
in  his  wife,  to  whom  he  had  been  married  five- 
and-twenty  years ;  and  then  talked  of  my  father, 
and  asked  questions  about  my  mother,  who  she 
was,  what  relatives  I  had  on  her  side,  and  so 
forth.  But  it  was  now  time  to  pitch  the  end  of 
our  cigars  away  and  join  the  ladies,  who  we 
found  in  chairs  round  the  tall  open  windows, 
listening  to  the  faint  strains  of  a  distant  band  of 
music  audible  on  this  side  of  the  house  only. 

"What's  that  they  are  blowing?"  inquired  my 
uncle. 

"It  sounds  like  'God  save  the  Queen,'"  said 
Sophie. 

"Has  Australia  a  national  song?"    asked  my 
aunt. 

"  Why,    of    course — '  God    save    the     Queen,' 
mamma,"  said  Amelia. 

"  No,    excuse    me,"    said    I ;    "  the  Australian 
anthem  is  '  Cheer  up,  Sam.'  " 

"  What !  "  cried  my  uncle  ;  "  d'ye  mean  '  Cheer 


I   GO  TO   CLIFTOX.  45 

up,  Sain,  don't  let  your  spirits  go  down  ?  '  Is  my 
nephew  right,  Miss  Florence  ?  " 

"  We  put  '  God  save  the  Queen '  first,  I  be- 
lieve," she  answered,  laughing  ;  "  but  everybody 
in  Australia  is  fond  of  '  Cheer  up,  Sam  ! '  " 

This  led  to  my  aunt  asking  Miss  Hawke  to  sing, 
to  which  she  consented  on  condition  that  Amelia 
sang  first.  So  my  cousin  went  to  the  piano  and 
piped  in  a  small  blithe  note  about  some  merry, 
merry  man  who  broke  an  unfortunate  girl's  heart, 
and  yet  continued  very  merry,  ri  fol  de  lol ! 
proving  what  odious  rogues  merry,  merry  men  are. 
Then  Miss  Hawke,  after  a  little  hesitation  and  a 
timid  peep  at  me  with  her  lovely  eyes,  took  her 
place  and  warbled  a  ballad.  I  have  no  recollection 
of  the  air;  I  do  not  remember  that  I  gathered 
what  the  poetry  was  about ;  but  for  all  that  I 
considered  it  the  divinest  song  I  had  ever  heard. 
Was  it  some  commonplace  tune  ?  were  the  words 
of  the  album  type — the  Letitia-Elizabeth-Landon- 
and-broken-heart-and-dishevelled-ringlets  school  ? 
Very  like,  very  like  ;  but  no  incomparable  Italian 
artist  singing  some  air  of  matchless  beauty  could 
have  overwhelmed  me  with  such  emotions  as  those 
raised  in  me  by  Miss  Hawke' s  simple,  pretty  voice, 
the  airy,  graceful,  flower-like  pose  of  her  figure, 
her  white  hands,  with  a  ring  or  two  on  them, 
trembling  like  blown  snow-flakes  which  glittered 
with  the  sparkle  of  ice-crystals  as  they  moved  over 


46  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

the  ivory  keys,  her  rich  hair  taking  a  ruddy  tinge 
of  gold  from  the  soft  lamplight,  the  sweetest  of 
little  feet  coquetting  with  the  pedals. 

I  protest,  when  I  think  of  her  I  long  like 
Werther  to  take  my  flowing  locks  in  both  hands 
and  pour  out  my  soul.  Dissembling  was  idle. 
When  more  than  a  man's  heart  will  hold  is 
poured  into  it,  then,  like  any  other  vessel — a  hook- 
pot  or  a  washing-tub — it  will  overflow.  I  was 
perfectly  sensible  that  there  was  a  note  of  some- 
thing exceedingly  like  impassioned  admiration  in 
the  thanks  I  added  to  those  of  the  others  for  her 
song ;  but  I  could  not  help  it.  Amelia  looked  at 
me,  Sophie  at  her  mother,  and  her  mother  fanned 
herself.  Miss  Hawke  said,  "You  are  too  kind, 
Mr.  Seymour,  to  praise  me  so  warmly  ;  my  voice 
is  a  very  poor  one ;  "  whilst  my  uncle  observed, 
"  I  don't  know ;  it  looks  to  me  as  if  Jack  had  a 
cultivated  taste  ;  "   on  which  I  gave  a  wild  laugh. 

Miss  Hawke  then  somewhat  bashfully  asked  if 
I  would  sing.  (What !  before  ladies  ?  thought  I. 
Never !)  I  told  her  that  my  knowledge  of  music 
did  not  enable  me  to  reach  to  anything  higher 
than  a  windlass  chorus. 

"  Then,  give  us  one  of  the  old  chanteys,"  ex- 
claimed my  uncle.  "  '  Haul  the  Bowline,'  or 
'  Whiskey,  Johnny,'  or  '  Eun,  let  the  Bulljine  run.' 
Why,  the  mere  sound  of  those  old  songs  takes  me 
back  forty  years,  and  I  seem  to  be  standing  in  the 


I  GO  TO   CLIFTON.  47 

lee  scuppers  up  to  my  neck,  or  holding  on  with 
my  eyelids  as  I  try  to  roll  up  the  fore -royal 
single-handed." 

However,  I  declined  to  sing,  and  they  gave  up 
pressing  me.  Tea  was  brought  in,  and  we  sat 
with  cups  and  saucers  in  our  hands  talking  a 
variety  of  small  beer,  until  Miss  Hawke,  pulling 
a  watch  of  the  size  of  a  sixpence  fi*om  her  waist- 
band, said  that  it  was  getting  late — she  must  go 
home  ;  whereupon  my  uncle  said  he  would  walk 
with  her  to  her  house,  and  half  turned  to  me  in 
a  manner  that  made  me  hope  he  was  going  to 
ask  me  to  join  him ;  but  instead  he  observed,  "  I 
shan't  be  above  twenty  minutes,  Jack.  Don't  go 
to  bed ;  we'll  have  a  cigar  when  I  return."  Of 
course  I  endeavoured  to  look  satisfied  and  happy, 
though  I  would  cheerfully  have  given  up  smoking 
for  a  month  for  the  privilege  of  helping  him  to  see 
Miss  Hawke  home. 

Well,  presently  she  came  down  dressed,  looking 
lovely  in  the  lamplight  in  her  bewitching  hat, 
and  said  good-night  to  us,  and  I  saw  my  uncle 
linking  in  the  hall  with  his  wideawake  on,  and 
wished  him  at  Jericho  for  leaving  me  behind. 
She  left  the  room,  but  came  back  in  a  moment, 
crying  out  in  her  melodious  way,  "  Oh,  I  have 
forgotten  Flora  !     Where's  my  ducky  Flora  ?  " 

My  uncle  whistled,  my  aunt  made  a  noise  like 
a  hen,  and  my  cousins   peered  about.     I  looked 


48  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

under  the  sofa,  and  found  the  old  creature  snugged 
up  into  a  ball  and  snoring  like  a  young  negro. 

"Here's  Flora,"  said  I,  dropping  on  one  knee, 
meaning  to  haul  the  animal  out  and  gallantly 
place  her  in  her  mistress's  arms  ;  but  the  moment 
I  touched  the  aged  beast,  that  was  evidently  very 
deaf,  she  staggered  on  to  her  legs  with  her  tail  on 
end  like  an  ensign  staff  on  a  ship's  stern,  snapped 
at  my  hand,  and  went  reeling  under  the  sofa  into 
the  room,  backing  away,  and  making  a  most 
horrible  faint  barking  noise. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  Mr.  Seymour,"  said  Miss 
Hawke ;  "  she's  the  sweetest,  most  harmless,  the 
dearest  old  thing — aren't  you,  Flora?"  and  she 
took  the  quivering,  grinning,  terrified,  deaf,  asth- 
matical  old  brute  to  her  heart,  and  put  her  lips  to 
the  worn-out  skin  of  the  creature's  head  and 
fondled  it.  She  then  went  away  for  good,  giving 
us  all  a  beautiful  smile  as  she  quitted  the  room, 
and  I  sat  down  with  my  aunt  and  cousins  to  chat 
with  them  until  my  uncle  returned. 


(    49     ) 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

SOME    SACRED   MUSIC. 

I  went  to  bed  at  half-past  eleven  that  night.  My 
aunt,  in  the  most  affectionate  manner,  hoped  I 
would  sleep  well ;  my  cousins  bade  me  good-night 
with  the  kindness  of  sisters  ;  my  uncle  accompanied 
me  to  my  bedroom  in  order  to  see  that  I  was  pro- 
perly cared  for,  and  parted  from  me  with  every 
manifestation  of  cordial  pleasure  at  my  presence, 
begging  me  to  feel  completely  at  home,  to  do  as  I 
pleased,  to  ask  for  whatever  I  wanted,  to  enjoy 
myself  thoroughly,  and  to  stay  as  long  as  ever  I 
chose. 

Could  mortal  uncle  say  more  to  a  nephew  ?  Aud 
what  a  delightful,  fragrant,  breezy  bedroom  was 
mine  !  And  yet,  though  I  was  in  bed  by  twelve, 
the  lights  out,  not  a  sound  to  disturb  me  outside 
save  it  were  now  and  again  a  moan  of  night-wind 
to  rustle  the  flowers  under  the  window  and  shake 
their  sweetness  into  the  dark,  star-laden  air,  I  did 
not  close  my  eyes  in  sleep  till  four  o'clock. 

VOL.  i.  e 


50  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

No  Chancery  litigant  whose  three  years'  suit  is 
in  all  probability  to  end  next  day ;  no  young  actor 
whose  first  appearance  in  London  is  fixed  for  the 
following  night  ;  no  distracted  tradesman  with 
several  heavy  bills,  renewed  ad  nauseam,  falling 
due  next  morning,  could  have  plunged  and  rolled 
upon  his  mattress  more  wearily  and  sleeplessly 
than  I.  To  say  that  I  was  so  much  in  love  with 
Florence  Hawke  as  to  be  unable  to  close  my  eyes 
through  thinking  of  her  would  be  to  say  a  little  too 
much.  If  ever  a  man  fell  in  love  at  first  sight, 
I  did ;  I'll  not  deny  it.  I  thought  Miss  Hawke  a 
beautiful  creature,  with  the  manner  of  a  queen  and 
the  sweetness  of  an  angel ;  and  I  was  in  love  with 
her,  though  a  few  hours  before  I  had  never  heard 
of  her ;  I  had  not  the  least  idea  that  there  was 
such  a  person  in  the  world.  But  I  am  not  going 
to  pretend  that  I  was  such  an  emotional,  impres- 
sionable, sentimental  swab  that  I  could  be  robbed 
of  my  sleep  right  away  out  of  hand  by  the  first 
pretty  woman  I  had  ever  seen,  whom  I  felt  I  could 
marry  and  live  happily  with  ever  after. 

And  yet  she  was  responsible  for  my  sleepless- 
ness, too,  for  I  lay  thinking  of  her  until  I  thought 
myself  into  broad  wakefulness,  though  I  had  gone 
tired  to  bed,  as  a  man  who  may  be  hungry  at  his 
usual  hour  for  dining  finds  his  appetite  gone  if  the 
dinner  be  long  delayed.  Being  of  a  somewhat 
imaginative  mind,  I  pictured  her  as  forced  by  her 


SOME  SACRED  MUSIC.  51 

father  into  accepting  Mr.  Morecombe,  and  I 
thought  of  myself  as  going  to  the  rescue  and 
attacking  old  Hawke  and  withering  him  up  with  a 
thousand  penetrating  and  scathing  sarcasms,  and 
my  humour  actually  carried  me  into  the  imagina- 
tion of  horsewhipping  young  Morecombe  for  being 
rude  to  me.  What  wit  visits  one  in  bed  where  it  is 
of  no  use  !  What  conflicts  one  has  there  with 
one's  enemies  in  the  silence  of  night,  and  how 
victorious  one  always  is  ! 

However,  I  fell  asleep  at  last,  and  when  I  was 
called  by  a  servant  was  thankful  to  find  that  the 
night  was  gone,  and  my  job  of  kicking  the  bed- 
clothes about  done  for  the  time  being.  There 
must  be  something  very  noxious  and  nauseous  in 
the  London  air  to  make  the  breezes  of  the  country 
or  the  seaside  the  delights  they  are  to  Cockney 
nostrils.  Spite  of  my  night  of  broken  rest,  I  felt  a 
stone  lighter  in  weight  as  I  moved  about  the  room 
dressing  myself.  The  atmosphere  was  delicious : 
a  warm,  aromatic  tide  that  hummed  pleasantly 
through  the  window,  and  was  full  of  the  chanting 
of  bees,  radiant  with  the  tossing  and  blown  flight 
of  butterflies,  and  there  was  a  sound  of  the  throb- 
bing life  of  Bristol  city  pulsing  in  it. 

I  found  my  relations  in  the  breakfast-room  :  not 
one  of  those  gloomy  subterranean  chambers  so 
called  which  you  find  in  London  houses,  and  which 
are  occupied  by  the  blackbeetles  when  the  family 


U.  OF  ILL  LIB. 


52  jack's  courtship. 

are  away,  but  a  handsome,  cheerful  apartment 
made  green  and  cool  by  the  shadows  of  some  trees 
which  stood  close  against  that  side  of  the  house. 
I  was  warmly  greeted,  and  answered  the  kind 
inquiries  as  to  the  night  I  had  passed  by  saying 
that  when  I  fell  asleep  I  slept  like  a  top,  which  was 
true  enough. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  said  my  uncle,  "  how  you  may 
kill  the  time  here.  There  is  a  fast  mare  in  the 
stable  at  your  disposal  whenever  you  have  a  mind 
for  a  canter.     Can  you  ride  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  there's  pommel  enough  to  hold  on  by." 

"  Then  there  is  a  snug  phaeton  in  which  you  can 
drive  yourself  and  your  aunt  and  your  cousins 
round  the  country — I  don't  mean  Great  Britain,  but 
the  neighbourhood.  There  is  the  club  at  Bristol. 
I  have  put  your  name  down,  and  you  can  use  it 
whilst  you  are  here.  You  have  the  sea  within  easy 
reach.  Wales  is  not  far  off,  and  you  can  fetch  any 
of  the  Channel  ports  whenever  you  like  by  steamer 
from  Bristol.  I  don't  know  whether  we  shall  be 
able  to  manufacture  any  dances  for  you — we 
have  not  been  here  long  enough  to  be  able  to  fill 
a  room — but  dinners  I  think  we  can  promise  ; 
and  what  further  programme  can  we  make  out, 
Sophia  ?  " 

"  Nothing  farther  is  wanted,"  said  I.  "It  is 
already  most  hospitably  abundant." 

Presently  my  aunt  said  something  about  Florence 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  53 

Hawke,  and  asked  Amelia  at  what  hour  that  day 
Mr.  Hawke  was  expected. 

"At  five  or  six  this  afternoon,"  was  the  reply. 
"  There's  an  anthem  I  much  want  to  hear  to  be 
sung  at  service  this  morning  in  the  Cathedral,  and 
T  arranged  yesterday  with  Florence  to  go.  We 
shall  walk  there,  and  her  carriage  will  fetch  us." 

"Will  you  take  me?"  said  I.  "Nothing 
delights  me  so  much  as  sacred  music." 

"  By  all  means  come,"  answered  my  kind  cousin. 

"Miss  Hawke,  I  hope,  won't  think  me  intrusive?" 
said  I. 

"  Why  should  she  ?  "  exclaimed  the  hearty,  good- 
natured  Sophie. 

"Intrusive!  You  mean  complimentary,"  ob- 
served my  uncle.  "  D'ye  suppose,  man,  she'll 
reckon  you  go  for  the  love  of  music  ?  " 

The  downrightness  of  this  somewhat  abashed  me. 
"But  I  should  like  to  hear  the  music,"  said  I; 
"  and  is  not  the  Cathedral  worth  seeing?  " 

"  Never  was  in  it,"  he  answered. 

"I  am  thinking,"  said  my  aunt,  addressing  her 
husband,  and  then  looking  at  her  daughters  as  if 
seeking  for  encouragement  to  deliver  what  was  in 
her  mind,  "that  Mr.  Hawke  might— I  mean,  that 
as  we  cannot  pretend  to  be  ignorant  of  his  views 
respecting " 

"  What,  my  love  ?  What  do  you  want  to  say  ?  " 
asked  my  uncle. 


54  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  Why,"  she  continued,  "  lie  might  not  perhaps 
like  Florence  to — he  might  not  thank  us  for  intro- 
ducing-  "  She  could  not  go  on,  perhaps  not  liking 

to  be  too  plain,  and  yet  not  knowing  how  to  convey 
her  meaning  otherwise  than  plainly.  But  we  all 
guessed  what  she  meant,  and  my  uncle  said — 

"  Let  old  Mr.  Hawke  hang  himself.  What  is  it  to 
us  ?  If  he  objects  to  his  daughter  meeting  young 
men,  let  him  lock  her  up.  I  really  cannot  confine 
Jack  to  his  bedroom  because,  being  at  large,  he  is 
likely  to  annoy  Mr.  Hawke  by  being  polite  to  his 
daughter  when  he  meets  her,  and  by  offering  to 
accompany  her  and  his  cousin — his  cousin,  my 
dear — to  hear  a  performance  of  sacred  music.'* 

"I  shouldn't  be  too  sensitive  about  Mr.  Hawke's 
feelings,  mamma,  if  I  were  you,"  said  Sophie. 
"  Why  shouldn't  Cousin  Jack  know  Florence,  and 
walk  with  her  and  Amelia  ?  I  am  sure  he  is  worth 
a  thousand  Mr.  Morecombes." 

"  Say  twenty  thousand,  Sophie,"  I  exclaimed, 
feeling  that  I  could  hug  the  dear  girl  for  her  good- 
ness and  loyalty. 

"  I  am  a  father  myself,"  said  my  uncle,  lying 
back  in  his  chair  and  taking  a  complacent  look 
round  the  table,  "  and  I  should  be  very  sorry  to 
do  anything  calculated  to  bother  a  man  in  his 
wishes  concerning  his  children.  But  I  am  not 
going  to  trouble  myself  on  matters  I  can't  help. 
I  should  be  sorry  to  call  upon  Mr.  Hawke  and. 


SOME  BACKED  MUSIC.  55 

tell  hira  that  in  my  opinion  he  is  a  prig,  for  sub* 
ordinating  his  daughter's  happiness  in  the  future 
to  a  twopenny  anxiety  to  drag  some  poor  creatine 
of  a  man  into  the  family,  whose  one  recommendation 
is  that  when  his  father  dies  he  will  be  a  baronet. 
I  would  not  tell  him  that,  I  say.  But  d'ye  suppose 
I'm  not  going  to  have  my  brother's  son  to  stop 
with  me,  that  I  am  going  to  shut  my  door  against 
my  own  sex,  because  Miss  Florence  visits  here, 
and  old  Hawke  would  be  angry  if  she  should  go 
and  give  her  heart  to  one  of  my  guests  instead  of 
reserving  it — or  the  shell  of  it,  for  it'll  be  but  a 
hollow  thing  she  presents  if  she's  forced  to  hand 
it  over  to  the  wrong  man — instead  of  reserving 
it,  I  say,  for  the  coxcomb  her  father  wants  her  to 
have  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  am  sure  I  never  thought  my  remarks 
would  have  led  to  all  this,"  said  my  aunt  ruefully. 
"  Nobody  could  have  a  greater  contempt  for  Mr. 
Hawke's  notions  of  marriage  than  I.  All  that  I 
meant  to  say  was  that  we,  as  acquaintances  and 
neighbours  of  his — I  mean,  that  as  Florence  very 

often  comes  to  see  us "  Here  she  broke  down 

again. 

I  felt  it  time  to  speak. 

"  Why  this  anxiety,  aunt  ?  Am  I  going  to  pounce 
upon  the  young  lady  and  carry  her  off  ?  Is  it  the 
dove  that  usually  bolts  with  the  hawk  ?  I  admit 
that  she  is  a  lovely  girl.     There  would  be  nothing 


56  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

very  astonishing  in  any  guest  or  male  friend  of 
yours  falling  in  love  with  her ;  but  if  he  flattered 
himself  on  winning  her,  I  should  either  consider 
him  demented  or  insufferably  conceited.  But  as 
you  object  to  my " 

"  No,  no !  "  she  interrupted,  "I  don't  object — 
indeed  not,  Mr.  Jack.  I  only — what  I  mean  is — 
indeed,  if  you  don't  accompany  her  and  Amelia 
you'll  make  me  feel  quite  uncomfortable." 

This  ended  it,  my  uncle  rounding  it  off  with  a 
burst  of  laughter, 

I  can  be  as  fastidious  in  my  views  as  my  betters, 
and  I  yield  to  no  man  in  respecting  the  right  sort 
of  parental  opinions  on  the  duties  and  behaviour 
of  young  ladies  ;  and  when  therefore  I  look  back,  I 
am  unable  to  find  the  least  possible  impropriety  in 
my  volunteering  to  escort  two  girls  to  service  at  a 
Cathedral  to  hear  a  particular  anthem  sung.  Yet 
suppose  I  had  not  been  strictly  within,  and  well 
within,  the  bounds  of  decorum,  I  should  still  have 
begged  my  cousin  to  take  me  to  the  service  and 
risked  the  chance  of  being  thought  improper.  My 
uncle  was  right ;  it  was  not  the  sacred  music,  it  was 
not  the  Cathedral  that  drew  me.  I  wanted  to  be  in 
Miss  Florence's  company  again ;  I  wanted  to  enjoy 
the  delight  of  being  near  her,  of  being  able  to  see 
her  beautiful  face  and  hear  her  sweet  voice. 

So,  shortly  after  breakfast,  Amelia  and  I  left  the 
house  for  Clifton  Lodge  (let  Mr.  Hawke's  residence 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  57 

have  that  name),  I  handsomely  equipped  with  a 
gay  flower  that  loyal  and  tender-hearted  Sophie 
had  pinned  upon  my  coat  whilst  I  waited  in  the 
hall  for  Amelia,  and  my  cousin  in  hright  colours 
which  she  topped  with  a  green  parasol  that  gave 
her  warm  fat  face  a  kind  of  copper-like  splendour. 
Our  road  took  us  from  the  valley  of  the  Avon,  and 
when  you  are  out  of  sight  of  that  fairy-like  ravine, 
the  nohle  heights  of  rocks,  the  shining  river  that 
winds  at  bottom,  and  the  wonders  of  vegetation 
whose  rich  summer  hues  make  the  whole  place  like 
a  piece  of  tropical  scenery,  Clifton  does  not  offer 
many  points  for  a  man  to  posture  over  in  descrip- 
tion. I  own- 1  was  not  rendered  emotional  by  the 
sight  of  dust  and  villas.  My  thoughts  were  con- 
siderably ahead  of  me — along  with  Miss  Florence 
Hawke  :  and  I  believe,  had  the  Alps  been  shifted 
by  an  earthquake  and  brought  alongside,  T  should 
not  have  taken  much  notice  of  them. 

We  arrived  at  the  house,  and  a  very  handsome 
building  it  was  :  square,  detached,  with  a  sort  of 
tower  upon  it,  and  stone  figures  of  angels  or  graces 
or  muses  at  the  corners.  It  was  as  big  again  as 
my  uncle's ;  but  whether  I  was  prejudiced  by  what 
I  had  heard  of  old  Hawke,  or  whether  the  house 
was  really  suggestive,  as  I  found  it,  it  seemed 
to  me,  for  all  its  conservatories,  its  rich  window 
drapery,  its  steps,  pillars,  and  the  rest  of  it,  a 
cold,  formal,  precise-looking  home.     It  had  a  look 


58  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

of  opulent  genteelness,  and  if  I  had  been  asked  to 
design  a  house  for  a  rich  man  who  was  with- 
out blood,  and  anxious  to  procure  some,  Clifton 
Lodge  is  the  sort  of  residence  I  should  have  given 
him. 

There  was  a  short  carriage  drive  to  the  door  :  we 
marched  along  with  powdered  boots,  and  pulled 
the  bell.  A  fellow  in  grand  livery  opened  the  door 
and  conducted  us  to  the  drawing-room,  quite  too 
sumptuously  furnished  for  my  taste,  much  as  I 
value  the  fine  and  the  beautiful :  full  of  gilt  and 
marble,  with  a  hand-painted  ceiling — in  short, 
pretty  nearly  as  overpowering  as  one  of  Lord 
Bute's  rooms  in  Cardiff  Castle,  which  I  had  the 
honour  to  inspect  when  I  visited  that  part. 

"Mighty  splendid!"  said  I  to  Amelia,  looking 
about  me  and  missing  something — I  don't  know 
what — which  had  it  been  there  would  have  pre- 
vented me  from  finding  it  so  hard  and  cold. 
"  And  this  is  Miss  Hawke's  home  ?  " 

"Is  it  not  very  magnificent?"  whispered  my 
cousin.  "  Mr.  Hawke  must  have  brought  a  lot 
of  Australian  gold  with  him  to  Clifton,  for  every- 
thing seems  gold  here.  Aren't  you  surprised  now 
to  think  how  unaffected  and  childlike  Florence  is  ? 
One  would  suppose  that  a  girl  living  in  such 
splendour  would  think  herself  too  good  for  anybody 
but  lords  and  ladies." 

"Well,"  said  I,   "if  I  lived  here  I  don't  know 


SOME  SACRED  MUSIC.  5£ 

that  I  should  be  able  to  walk.  The  earth  would  be 
too  low  for  my  boots.  Surely  her  father  ought  to 
have  a  soul  above  the  son  of  a  baronet !  "  said  I, 
glaring  at  a  lady  in  a  cloud  blowing  a  trumpet 
amid  a  grummet  of  flowers  upon  the  ceiling. 

"  The  son  will  be  the  eighth  baronet  when  he 
gets  it,"  said  she.  "And  I  believe  the  More- 
combes  are  connected  in  various  ways  with  about 
twenty  titled  families/' 

A  plague  upon  him  and  his  connections,  thought 
I ;  and  as  this  benediction  upon  him  rolled  up  out 
of  my  soul  Miss  Hawke  came  in,  dressed  for  the 
walk.  She  looked  surprised  to  see  me,  and  slightly 
blushed.  I  presume,  when  the  footman  gave  our 
name  she  supposed  I  was  my  uncle.  But  the  look 
was  all  the  expression  her  surprise  found,  and  it 
was  replaced  by  a  smile,  so  uncommonly  like  one 
of  pleasure,  that  as  it  passed  over  her  face  my 
heart  struck  a  loud  whop  in  my  bosom. 

She  gave  me  her  little  gloved  hand  to  shake, 
said  she  was  very  glad  to  see  me,  and  asked  if  I 
was  going  to  the  Cathedral  with  them. 

"  Yes,  if  I  may,"  said  I.  "  "When  Amelia  spoke 
of  the  [anthem,  I  begged  leave  to  hear  it  too.  I 
hope  I  am  not  intrusive.  Nobody  asked  me.  I 
am  here  by  my  own  invitation." 

"Why  shouldn't  you  come?"  said  she,  smiling, 
but  looking  shyly.  "  The  choir  is  a  good  one.  If 
you  like  sacred  music,  you  will  enjoy  the  singing." 


60  jack's  couktship. 

As  we  left  the  house  I  asked  if  the  Cathedral 
was  far. 

"  Almost  far  enough  for  a  drive  if  you  are  a  bad 
walker,"  she  answered. 

"  We  shall  drive  back/'  said  Amelia.  "  The  way 
is  nearly  all  down-hill.  Not  that  I  very  much  care 
to  use  a  carriage  when  I  go  to  church,  even  on 
week-days.  I  dislike  seeing  people  roll  up  to  a 
church  door  as  if  they  expected  the  vicar,  and  his 
curates,  and  the  pew-opener,  and  the  sexton  to 
come  out  and  stand  in  a  row  and  bow  to  them.  It 
is  excusable,  perhaps,  on  a  week-day,  or  when 
people  are  old  or  have  the  gout." 

"Yes,  at  church  we  are  all  equals,"  said  I, 
"  and  ought  to  arrive  on  foot,  the  nobleman 
and  the  chimney-sweep,  the  footman  and  the 
baronet." 

I  brought  in  the  word  baronet  for  the  sake  of 
putting  a  little  malicious  emphasis  upon  it ;  but 
Miss  Florence  took  no  notice.  What  an  adorable 
profile  was  hers  to  turn  to  as  I  walked  by  her  side  ! 
There  was  not  an  atom  of  stiffness  in  her  talk. 
Had  we  been  auld  acquaintance  she  could  not  have 
addressed  me  more  freely  and  pleasantly.  She 
laughed  at  my  little  jokes  (little  they  were),  asked 
me  about  the  sea,  wondered  how  I  could  have  had 
the  heart  to  give  up  the  life  and  liberty  of  the 
ocean,  and  spoke  of  the  sailor's  calling  as  the  man- 
liest in  the  world. 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  Gl 

"What !  "  cried  Amelia,  "  more  manly  than  the 
soldier's?" 

"Certainly,"  she  answered;  "they  cannot  be 
mentioned  in  the  same  breath.  Don't  you  agree 
with  me,  Mr.  Seymour  ?  " 

"  Agree  with  you,  Miss  Hawke  !  indeed  I  do, 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  "  I  answered,  and  I 
barely  saved  myself  from  adding  that  had  she 
argued  in  favour  of  the  soldier's  life  I  should  have 
agreed  with  her  with  all  my  soul,  just  the  same. 

It  was  a  very  short  walk  to  me.  When  Amelia 
said,  "  The  Cathedral,  Jack,  is  in  College  Green 
there,  just  round  the  corner,"  I  exclaimed,  "  I 
thought  you  said,  Miss  Hawke,  that  it  was  almost 
far  enough  for  a  drive  ?  Were  it  five  times  further 
it  would  not  be  too  far  for  me." 

Very  hot  it  was,  being  a  cloudless  morning,  and 
many  a  fathom  we  measured  without  meeting  the 
relief  of  an  inch  of  shade ;  but  though  corpulence 
is  not  popularly  supposed  to  revel  in  the  dog-days, 
my  fat  and  amiable  cousin  declared  she  enjoyed  the 
heat,  and  walked  as  if  perspiration  had  been  pre- 
scribed ;  whilst  the  only  effect  produced  on  Miss 
Florence  by  the  exercise  and  the  temperature  was  a 
slight  deepening  of  the  delicate  peachlike  tint  on 
her  cheeks.  As  I  swung  along  at  her  side,  listening 
to  her  pretty  voice  and  looking  at  her  charming 
face,  it  seemed  difficult  to  realize  that  yesterday  at 
that  hour,  ay,  and  for  some  hours  later,  she  had 


62 

no  existence  so  far  as  I  was  concerned.  Indeed,  I 
seemed  to  have  known  her  an  age — a  notion  pro- 
duced probably  by  my  thoughts  having  been  full  of 
her  from  the  moment  I  clapped  eyes  on  her. 

I  should  like  to  be  able  to  write  in  praise  of 
Bristol  Cathedral.  The  mere  circumstance  of 
Florence  Hawke  living  in  the  neighbourhood  ought 
to  have  made  living  poetry  and  beauty  not  only  of 
the  old  pile,  but  of  every  brick  and  chimney-pot  in 
the  city.  But  there  is  a  nakedness  and  a  most 
unlovely  grimness  about  the  Cathedral  that  renders 
admiration  very  difficult.  Outside,  the  structure 
has  the  look  of  a  fortress,  and  inside  it  is  as  naked 
as  a  stable.  The  pews  or  benches  are  crowded 
together  at  one  end,  where  there  is  a  trifling  show 
of  ecclesiastical  furniture ;  and  to  reach  those  seats 
you  have  to  navigate  a  small  Atlantic  Ocean  of 
stone  floor,  with  pillars  on  either  side;  and  the 
sterility  of  the  cold  and  stony  scene  is  emphasized, 
rather  than  relieved,  by  here  and  there — as  widely 
scattered  as  currants  in  a  sailor's  dumpling — a 
memorial  of  brass  or  marble.  In  most  cathedrals 
there  is  something  to  look  at.  What  is  shown  may 
often  be  a  sham.  Still,  a  small  stock  of  faith  will 
enable  you  to  gaze  with  interest,  as  for  instance  at 
the  Black  Prince's  armour  at  Canterbury,  which, 
for  all  one  knows,  may  have  been  manufactured  at 
Birmingham,  whence  a  great  number  of  ancient 
relics  are,  I  believe,  annually  exported.     But  Bristol 


SOME   SACRED   MUSIC.  63 

Cathedral  offers  you  nothing.  Historic  memories 
no  doubt  it  has  ;  but  there  is  nothing  to  touch,  to 
hang  over,  to  muse  upon  in  the  form  of  a  tomb,  an 
old  banner,  a  stain  on  the  flags  where  some  holy 
man  gave  up  the  ghost. 

And  yet  one  church  Bristol  has  that  atones  for 
the  unfurnished  Cathedral.  I  mean  St.  Mary 
Eedcliffe.  It  is  an  architectural  dream,  most 
beautiful  and  tender.  Why  are  not  all  churches 
equally  lovely?  Were  they  so,  I  am  sure  we 
should  all  be  more  religious.  Ladies,  St.  Mary 
Eedcliffe  is  a  church  to  get  married  in.  Why, 
even  a  wedding  for  money — ay,  even  the  nuptials 
of  a  foolish  old  rich  woman  with  a  sneaking  rapa- 
cious young  man — would  take  an  idyllic  character 
in  St.  Mary  Eedcliffe.  But  I  say,  Bristolians, 
where  got  you  that  effigy  of  poor  little  Chatterton  ? 
Could  anything  be  more  foolish  ?  I'm  a  Dutchman 
if  it  isn't  like  a  memorial  to  a  tomtit.  Think  of  a 
structure  resembling  a  shrine  surmounted  by  a 
caricature  in  little  of  a  Lord  Mayor  of  the  last 
century !  Was  Chatterton  a  genius  ?  'Pon  my 
word,  I  never  could  understand  his  ancient  lingo ; 
but  if  he  had  no  more  talent  than  I  have,  who 
could  not  make  a  rhyme  though  ten  pounds  of  pure 
Virginia  were  offered  me  for  a  couplet,  may  I  be 
hanged  if  I  would  have  consented  to  the  erection  of 
such  a  scarecrow  had  I  hailed  from  old  Sebastian 
Cabot's  port. 


64  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

Well,  Miss  Hawke  and  my  cousin  and  I  entered 
the  Cathedral  and  joined  the  worshippers  (few 
enough.,  but  business  is  business,  and  this  wasn't 
Sunday)  and  heard  the  anthem.  A  fine  piece  of 
rumbling  music  it  was,  and  well  sung.  The 
memory  of  it  would  inspire  me  to  attempt  some 
elegant  writing  had  I  heard  it  in  any  other  interior, 
say  Durham,  or  Winchester  (wherein  I  have  knelt 
as  a  bairn),  or  Gloucester,  but  the  nakedness  of 
the  building  ran  amuck  with  emotion.  The  dim, 
rich,  holy  light,  the  ghostly  tatters  of  ancient 
banners  hovering  like  petrified  bats  in  the  gloom  of 
a  dark  roof  that  has  reverberated  the  orisons  of 
generations,  the  stone  warriors  on  their  backs  with 
their  mailed  hands  crossed  upon  their  pale  bosoms 
and  their  noses  gone  to  join  their  souls,  the  satyr- 
like effigies  which  glower  like  the  nightmares  of 
mad  Chinamen  from  darksome  corners — such  and 
a  score  of  other  sacerdotal  wonders  which  no  man 
who  has  heaved  at  a  capstan  and  sat  astride  a  yard- 
arm  can  be  expected  to  remember,  were  wanting  as 
adjuncts  to  that  rolling  and  growling  and  swelling 
anthem  in  Bristol  Cathedral. 

And  yet  the  grand  melodies,  the  sweet  and  silver 
tenor  notes,  the  tremulous  thunder  of  the  solemn 
organ  echo  in  my  soul  to  this  hour,  as  a  sacred 
setting  of  that  poem  of  womanhood  who  sat  on  my 
right  hand  in  a  posture  of  devotion  listening  to  the 
heavenly  strains.     Ay,  depend  upon  it   that   any 


SOME   SACKED  MUSIC.  65 

girl  who  wants  to  enrich  and  make  large  and 
splendid  a  young  man's  idea  of  her  cannot  do 
better  than  carry  him  off  to  hear  an  anthem  sung 
in  a  cathedral.  The  ball-room  bequeaths  the 
memory  of  white  shoulders,  sparkling  eyes,  waltz- 
ing measures,  and  so  forth;  the  dinner-table 
pretty  much  the  same  thing,  sometimes  including 
the  waltzing  measures ;  the  parlour  experience  is 
homely,  and  sentiment  gets  mixed  up  with  darning, 
hemming,  and  such  matters.  But  to  sit  by  the 
side  of  a  lovely  girl  in  a  cathedral  and  hear  an 
anthem  sung  is  to  enjoy  a  singular  elevation  of 
emotion.  She  becomes  a  part  of  the  sacred  enter- 
tainment. She  humanizes  the  music,  and  the 
music  spiritualizes  her.  This  may  be  rather 
German  as  a  piece  of  subtlety,  but  none  the  less  is 
it  true.  I  can  tell  you  this  :  I  understood  that 
anthem  all  the  better  for  looking  at  Florence 
Hawke ;  yes,  and  I  found  her  sweetness  the  sweeter 
and  her  womanly  beauty  the  womanlier  for  watch- 
ing her  and  thinking  of  her,  to  the  tune  that  rolled 
out  of  the  organ's  melodious  heart  with  a  deep- 
throated  reverberation  that  sometimes  set  the  seat 
we  were  on  quivering. 

Service  being  over  we  came  away,  and  outside 
found  Alphonso  Hawke's  carriage — a  regal  turn-out, 
quite  in  keeping  with  the  gilt  and  velvet  and  marble 
of  Clifton  Lodge.  There  was  a  device  on  the  panels 
that  looked  uncommonly  like  a  lord's,  and  might 

VOL.  I.  I 


66  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

have  passed  for  something  of  the  kind  to  a  person 
not  nicely  acquainted  with  odds  and  ends  of  that 
sort. 

"Is  it  too  hot  for  a  drive,  dear,  before  we  go 
home?"  asked  Miss  Hawke,  addressing  Amelia,  of 
course,  for  I  was  not  dear  yet. 

"No;  if  it  is  not  too  hot  to  walk  it  is  not  too  hot 
to  drive,"  answered  Amelia.  "  Would  you  like  a 
drive,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Very  much,"  said  I.  So  we  got  into  the 
carriage,  Miss  Hawke  gave  some  directions  to  the 
footman,  and  off  we  went,  honoured  by  the  notice 
of  everybody  we  encountered.  Indeed,  I  never 
before  observed  people  stare  so  hard  at  a  carriage 
as  the  Bristolians  we  met  did  at  ours.  The  reason 
lay  in  the  men's  livery,  I  think.  It  was  as  gaudy 
as  a  lord  mayor's,  a  blaze  of  crimson  and  gold,  and 
they  had  white  hair  and  shining  stockings.  "We 
talked  of  the  anthem,  and  Miss  Hawke  asked  me 
what  I  thought  of  the  Cathedral.  I  gave  her  my 
opinion,  and  she  agreed  with  me. 

"  It  is  the  only  disappointment  I  have,"  said  she. 
"We  Australians  are  always  dreaming  of  the 
antiquities  of  England;  and  when  papa  told  me 
we  were  going  to  live  near  a  cathedral,  I  pictured 
a  place  like  Westminster  Abbey,  full  of  wonderful 
tombs,  glorious  windows,  beautiful  monuments,  and 
sanctified  spots  railed  off  and  hidden  in  twilight. 
However,  it  is  better  than  no  cathedral  at  all." 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  67 

This  was  about  the  most  sensible  thing  that  was 
said  during  the  drive ;  all  the  rest  of  the  conver- 
sation was  made  up  of  the  idle  chatter  which  three 
persons — who  are  no  company — will  bestow  on  one 
another.  The  young  ladies  spoke  of  persons  who 
were  strangers  to  me :  of  Mrs.  Jones'  last  dance ; 
of  Mrs.  Robinson's  projected  garden-party ;  of  Miss 
Chirrup  learning  singing  with  the  idea  of  going  on 
the  stage.  I  had  as  much  to  say,  too,  as  either  of 
them,  tried  to  be  funny  and  made  them  laugh,  any- 
how. I  took  no  notice  of  the  course  the  coachman 
was  steering ;  whether  he  was  heading  north  or 
south  I  could  not  say.  It  was  enough  for  me  that 
I  was  sitting  opposite  Florence  Hawke,  that  my 
knee  touched  the  sacred  hem — let  me  call  it  hem — 
of  her  exquisitely-fitting  dress,  that  I  was  breathing 
the  atmosphere  that  her  lovely  presence  made 
fragrant.  I  say  that  was  enough  for  me.  "What 
did  it  matter  how  old  red-and-gold  on  the  bos 
pulled  the  reins  ?  All  that  I  desired  was  that  he 
should  not  be  in  a  hurry  to  carry  us  home.  The 
drive  was  largely  meant  for  me,  I  knew,  and  so 
now  and  again  I  would  admire  the  scenery  and  ask 
whose  house  that  was,  and  pretend  to  be  interested 
in  the  landscape.  But  I  have  no  recollection 
of  the  view.  Nearly  all  that  I  can  remember  is 
Florence,  her  shining  winning  eyes,  the  light  upon 
her  hair,  the  delicate  tint  upon  her  face  cast  by  the 
crimson    parasol    in     her    hand,    her    unaffected 


68  jack's  courtship. 

laughter,  and,  best  of  all,  shipmate,  the  real 
pleasure  she  seemed  to  find  in  my  company,  as  if 
there  was  something  in  my  talk  that  brightened  up 
her  spirits. 

And  why  not  ?  She  loved  Sydney,  and  I  knew 
the  place  well.  She  liked  sailors,  and  I  had  been 
one  and  was  still  one  at  heart.  She  had  made 
long  voyages,  and  could  understand  me  only  as  a 
girl  might  who  had  rounded  the  Horn  twice,  and 
knew  what  a  four  months'  passage  is.  Might  she 
not,  then,  have  found  a  kind  of  salt-water  flavour 
about  me  that  would  come  as  a  novelty  to  her  now 
and  awaken  pleasant  thoughts  ? 

By-and-by  we  came  to  a  road  that  had  two 
branches,  one  leading  to  Clifton  Lodge  and  the 
other  to  my  uncle's  house  ;  and  here  Amelia  asked 
Miss  Hawke  to  accompany  us  home  to  lunch. 

"I  hoped  you  and  Mr.  Seymour  would  have 
lunched  with  me"  said  Miss  Florence. 

"As  you  please,  dear,"  said  Amelia,  with  the 
good-natured  indifference  to  things  which  I  have 
often  taken  notice  of  in  fat  people. 

"  Home,"  warbled  the  sweet  girl  to  the  resplen- 
dent creature  on  the  box  ;  and  presently  we  arrived 
at  Clifton  Lodge. 

The  old  Arabian  romancers  were  fond  of  bring- 
ing young  men  of  various  social  standing  and 
princesses  together,  and  making  the  princesses 
overwhelm  the  young  men  with  favours  and  sweet- 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  69 

meats,  until  the  young  men,  bewildered  by  so 
much  kindness  and  so  much  beauty,  came  at  last 
to  wonder  whether  they  stood  on  their  heels  or 
their  heads.  As  I  followed  the  girls  into  Clifton 
Lodge  I  must  say  my  feelings  very  much  resembled 
those  of  the  Arabian  young  men.  I  had  met  a 
young  princess,  and  by  a  combination  of  events 
•over  which  I  had  had  no  control,  though  I  could 
not  have  marshalled  them  to  greater  advantage  to 
myself  had  I  had  the  ordering  of  them,  I  was 
privileged  to  be  in  her  company,  and  enjoy  her 
conversation  and  society  so  continuously  as  to 
make  the  chances  by  which  that  spell  of  bliss  came 
about  quite  singular  to  remember. 

Take  the  circumstances  in  their  order  :  first,  her 
papa  was  away ;  then  there  was  the  meeting  her  on 
the  previous  night,  and  her  stopping  to  dinner; 
then  there  was  the  arrangement  with  Amelia  to 
hear  the  anthem,  my  stepping  in  and  asking  leave 
to  go  too,  the  walk  to  the  Cathedral,  the  sitting- 
through  the  service,  the  drive,  and  now  the  invi- 
tation to  lunch.  It  was  all  perfectly  correct.  I 
question  if  the  most  acidulated  old  lady  living, 
bless  her !  could  find  an  excuse  for  a  scowl  in  an}r 
point  of  this  narrative  of  my  meeting  and  acquain- 
tance with  Florence  Hawke,  so  far.  But  neverthe- 
less, this  girl  and  I  were  so  much  together  at  the 
first  start  that  I  say  there  was  something  singular 
in  it. 


70  jack's  couktship. 

She  took  ray  cousin  upstairs,  and  I  was  left; 
alone  in  the  drawing-room,  where,  after  casting  my 
eyes  round  the  spacious  apartment  and  surveying 
the  costly  ornaments,  the  resplendent  chairs,  and 
the  various  other  objects  with  much  wonder  and 
without  the  least  pleasure,  I  opened  an  album 
bound  in  silver  and  ivory,  with  Alphonso  Hawke's 
crest  (his  crest !) — a  kind  of  shield  with  something 
that  looked  like  a  goose  perched  on  top  of  it,  its 
wings  extended  and  its  bill  cocked  up  as  though  it 
were  asking  forgiveness  for  its  absurd  posture — and 
looked  at  the  photographs.  Here  I  found  correct 
portraits  of  her  gracious  Majesty,  likewise  the  late 
Prince  Consort  and  the  Heir  Apparent  in  Highland 
costume;  also  several  persons  of  quality;  and 
among  these  august  and  noble  people  there  were 
scattered  likenesses  of  the  Hawke  family  and  the 
most  genteel  of  their  friends.  But  the  book  was 
very  thinly  furnished.  It  was  a  show-volume 
meant  for  visitors.  The  likenesses  of  Hawke's 
relations  and  early  acquaintances  and  antipodean 
friends  were,  I  suppose,  kept  in  a  separate  book 
intended  for  the  use  of  the  family  and  the  domestics 
only. 

But  in  looking  over  this  album  I  came  across  a. 
lovely  profile  likeness  of  Miss  Florence.  It  was  a 
Paris  photograph  ;  the  shadowing  and  light  very- 
fine,  the  pose  perfect  in  grace  and  refinement. 
She  was  seated  bending  over  a  book,  her  hand  to 


SOME  SACKED  MUSIC.  71 

her  forehead,  and  tresses  of  her  hair  delicately 
fringing  her  finger-tips.  As  I  sat  entranced  the 
ladies  entered.  I  was  so  full  of  the  subject  that  I 
immediately  exclaimed,  "  What  an  exquisite  portrait 
this  is,  Miss  Hawke  !  " 

They  both  came  up  to  look.  "When  Miss  Florence 
saw  that  it  was  her  likeness  she  slightly  smiled,  her 
colour  deepened. 

"  It  is  considered  good,"  said  she. 

"It  is  perfect,"  said  I  rapturously.  "  Have  you 
one,  Amelia  ?  " 

"  One  of  my  own  ?  "  asked  Amelia. 

"  One  of  these  ? "  said  I,  and  I  pointed  to  the 
lovely  portrait. 

"No,  Jack,"  answered  Amelia. 

"  I  only  had  a  dozen,"  said  Miss  Florence,  "  and 
this,  I  believe,  is  the  last  of  them.  If  you  would  like 
to  have  it,  Amelia,  you  are  very  welcome  to  it,  dear." 

"  May  I  extract  it  at  once  ?  "  said  I ;  and  without 
waiting  for  permission  I  withdrew  it  tremblingly 
but  with  extraordinary  care,  and  said,  "  I  will  put 
it  in  my  pocket  and  keep  it  for  you,  Amelia,"  and 
so  saying  I  pocketed  it. 

All  this  was  more  significant  than  talking. 
Amelia  giggled,  and  did  not  know  how  to  look  nor 
what  to  say.  Miss  Florence,  on  the  other  hand, 
threw  a  veil  of  charming  transparent  tact  over  the 
little  interlude,  by  coming  close  to  the  table  and 
saying,  whilst  she  pointed  to  the  portraits,  "  That 


i'±  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

is  my  father,  Mr.  Seymour ;  and  that  is  my  poor 
mother,"  and  as  I  stooped  to  peer  at  Mr.  Alphonso 
Hawke's  features  a  footman  announced  luncheon. 

Cold  chicken  and  tongue,  cutlets  and  claret  and 
champagne  and  salad — of  such  was  the  modest 
repast  composed,  and  I  could  not  but  think  that 
the  splendidly-dressed  flunkey  who  waited  upon  us 
was  ashamed  of  the  poverty  of  the  meal.  The 
table  in  its  abridged  form  wanted  at  least  five-and- 
twenty  people  to  fill  it,  and  I  should  think  that 
seventy  or  eighty  guests  could  very  comfortably 
have  dined  in  the  great  room  that  formed  the 
ground  floor  of  the  largest  wing  of  the  house.  The 
walls  were  crowded  with  pictures,  whether  good  or 
bad  I  do  not  know,  and  the  furniture  was  of  very 
magnificently  carved  oak,  the  back  of  the  sideboard 
being  pretty  nearly  as  tail  as  the  room,  and  en- 
riched with  all  sorts  of  cuttings. 

Thought  I,  however  old  Hawke  has  earned  his 
money,  plenty  of  it  he  must  have ;  and  when  I 
looked  at  the  lovable,  beautiful  creature  who  sat  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  and  whose  figure  was  thrown 
into  sweet  relief  by  the  handsome  livery  of  the 
fellow  who  hung  in  the  wake  of  her  chair,  and 
reflected  upon  the  fortune  she  was  pretty  sure  to 
step  into — for  so  far  as  I  had  learnt  there  was  but 
another  child — and  considered  the  crowds  of  hand- 
some young  men  and  high-born  young  men — men, 
who,  if  they  had  not  the  capacity  of  going  forward 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  73 

were  capable  of  going  back  to  any  extent,  who 
would  be  only  too  happy  to  mingle  their  blood  with 
old  Hawke's  for  the  privilege  of  possessing  his 
lovely  daughter  and  his  Australian  sovereigns — I 
say  that  when  I  looked  at  her  and  thought  thus, 
my  heart  sank,  a  gloom  fell  upon  my  spirits,  and  I 
felt  disposed  to  curse  the  chance  that  had  brought 
me  acquainted  with  my  uncle,  and  led  to  my  visit 
to  Clifton. 

I>3'-and-by  the  footman  went  out  of  the  room.  I 
was  fumbling  over  a  peach  when  Amelia  said — quite 
sequentially,  for  the  conversation  led  up  to  the 
remark — "Florence  dear,  are  you  glad  or  sorry 
that  Mr.  Morecombe  is  coming  ?  " 

"Now,  you  know,  Amelia,  that  I  don't  care  a 
snap  of  the  finger  either  one  way  or  the  other," 
answered  Miss  Hawke,  laughing. 

"  Is  Mr.  Morecombe  a  connection  of  yours,  Miss 
Hawke  ?  "  said  I,  looking  and  talking  innocently. 

"  Tell  my  cousin  he  would  like  to  be,  Florence," 
exclaimed  Amelia,  chuckling,  and  squeezing  grapes 
into  her  mouth  and  looking  at  me  with  a  kind  of 
leer,  as  if  she  wished  me  to  know  she  approved  of 
my  pretended  ignorance. 

"  No,  he  is  no  connection,"  answered  Miss  Hawke 
very  quietly.  "  He  is  a  son  of  Sir  Pieginald  More- 
combe, a  person  my  father  has  a  high  regard  for. 
He  is  coming  here  on  a  visit.  Mr.  Seymour,  will 
you  please  give  me  a  peach  ?  " 


74  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

What  was  the  meaning  of  the  smile  that  flitted 
over  her  face  ?  Could  she  read  in  me  that  I  was 
half  mad  to  ask  her  if  there  was  the  faintest  chance 
in  the  world  of  her  complying  with  her  papa's 
desire  ?  Well,  I  must  have  been  an  ass  to  suppose 
that  she  could  interpret  my  thoughts  like  that.  Yet 
my  mind  was  so  full  at  that  moment  that  I  could 
not  but  suspect  she  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
portion  of  what  was  whirling  and  simmering  in  it. 

"  What  is  young  Mr.  Morecombe  ?  "  said  I.  "  An 
army  man  ?  " 

"He  is  nothing,"  said  Miss  Hawke. 

"Very  much  nothing  at  all,"  observed  Amelia. 

I  waited  breathless,  thinking  that  Miss  Hawke 
would  speak  in  his  favour. 

"I  am  afraid  he  is  rather  a  fool,"  said  she; 
whereupon  I  laughed  at  the  top  of  my  voice. 

"Why  were  fools  invented?"  I  exclaimed,  as  lively 
as  a  sparrow  on  a  sudden.  "  To  mitigate  any 
spirit  of  discontent  that  might  sometimes  visit 
monkeys  ?  Or  as  standards  for  measuring  the 
intellect  of  ladies  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  cried  Amelia.  "  Are 
women  only  fit  for  fools  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  said  I.  "  The  women  who  are  above 
fools  can't  be  measured  by  them.  I  am  speaking 
of  women  who  allow  fools  to  make  love  to  them,  and 
who  end  in  marrying  fools." 

"  A  girl  may  marry  a  fool  and  not  know  he  is  a 


SOME  SACRED  MUSIC.  75 

fool  until  she  finds  him  her  husband,"  said  Miss 
Hawke. 

I  wouldn't  have  contradicted  her  to  save  my  life  ; 
but  for  all  that  I  didn't  agree  with  her.  A  man,  it 
is  true,  may  prove  a  bigger  fool  after  marriage  to 
his  wife  than  he  seemed  before,  because  his  wife 
has  had  the  chance  of  looking  deeper  into  him  ;  but 
if  he  was  ever  a  fool  at  all,  he  was  a  fool  before  his 
marriage,  and  the  woman  knew  it. 

"  I  should  not  object  very  much  to  stupid  men," 
said  Amelia,  "  if  they  were  foolishly  amiable  and 
not  generally  conceited.  I  don't  profess  to  know 
much  about  Mr.  Morecombe,  but  so  far  as  I  have 
gone,  what  annoys  me  most  in  him  is  this  :  when 
he  puts  his  glass  into  his  eye  and  looks  around, 
there  can  be  no  question  that  he  thinks  himself  a 
person  of  consequence,  and  that  he  embellishes  life. 
He  !  Oh,  my  dear !  whenever  I  meet  with  what 
papa  calls  a  swell,  I  always  wonder  how  many  feet 
high  it  would  be  necessary  to  mount  into  the  air 
to  look  down  and  not  be  able  to  see  the  noble 
creatine." 

"  How  terribly  democratic  they  are  in  America, 
Mr.  Seymour !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Hawke,  laughing. 
"  In  Australia,  you  know,  we  reverence  pedigree." 

"Yes,  the  Australians  are  a  loyal  people;  they 
believe  in  lords,  and  sing  '  God  save  the  Queen,'  " 
said  I.  "And  don't  you  see,  Amelia,  that  your 
notion  of  going  into  the  air  and  losing  sight  of  the 


76  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

swell  hits  the  man  of  genius  too  ?  Would  little 
Thomas  Moore  have  been  visible  three  miles 
down  ?  " 

"Not  his  body,  but  the  best  part  of  him  would," 
said  Miss  Hawke,  "  for  Amelia  could  take  the 
*  Irish  Melodies '  into  the  air  with  her." 

I  should  have  praised  this  as  a  neat  turn  in  any- 
body ;  but  coming  from  Miss  Florence  it  sounded 
to  me  incomparably  fine.  I  was  delighted,  and 
said  it  was  worthy  of  Hook.  (Why  Hook  ?  I  must 
have  meant  Hood.) 

"  Pray,  Miss  Hawke,"  said  I,  "  where  is  Flora?  " 

"  Flora  ?  Oh,  poor  dear  old  Flora,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  is  not  well.  The  housekeeper  is  nursing 
her  downstairs.  But  you  are  not  sorry,  are  you  ? 
You  think  her  vicious.  Even  had  she  been  well  I 
should  not  have  introduced  her.  And  yet  she 
cannot  bite.     She  has  no  teeth." 

"  You  should  order  a  false  set  for  her,"  says 
Amelia,  with  a  sober  face. 

"  I  love  poor  old  Flora,"  continued  Miss  Hawke, 
in  her  tender  voice.  [Observe  !  It  was  delightful 
to  hear  her  say  "  I  love."  Her  lips  were  made  to 
form  the  words,  her  face  to  look  the  thought  ex- 
pressed !  ]  "  She  was  my  mother's  pet,  and  has 
been  mine  ever  since  mamma  died.  It  will  grieve 
me  when  poor  Flora  goes  ;  and  I  simply  hate  the 
coachman  for  telling  me  this  morning  that  he's 
afraid  she  will  not  last  much  longer." 


SOME   SACRED   MUSIC.  77 

"Don't  let  the  coachman  distress  you,"  said  I 
softly.  "  I  have  a  poor  opinion  of  coachmen  as  a 
body.  They  know  very  little.  Let  them  stick  to 
horses,  and  leave  dogs  alone." 

"  Jack,  it  is  time  to  go,"  said  Amelia,  looking  at 
the  clock.  "  Why,  Florence,  your  papa  and  Mr. 
Morecombe  will  be  arriving  at  six  o'clock  and 
finding  us  still  at  lunch."     And  up  she  jumped. 

Miss  Hawke  begged  her  not  to  be  in  a  hurry :  it 
was  only  half-past  two.  For  my  part  I  should 
have  been  willing  to  go  on  stopping  until  I  had 
been  turned  out;  but  I  could  not  stay  without 
Amelia,  and  Amelia  declared  she  must  go.  So  my 
cousin  went  to  put  on  her  hat,  and  when  that  job 
— which  kept  me  waiting  twenty  minutes — was 
performed,  we  bade  Miss  Hawke  farewell,  and 
passed  out  of  the  house  with  all  the  state  that 
could  be  conferred  upon  us  by  a  footman  holding 
open  the  door,  a  butler  bowing,  and  another  fellow 
in  livery  in  the  distance  looking  on. 

"  I  have  thoroughly  enjoyed  my  morning,"  said 
I,  as  we  walked  in  the  direction  of  my  uncle's 
house. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  replied  Amelia. 
"  We  want  you  to  enjoy  yourself  whilst  you  are 
with  us.  And  I  hope  you  will  not  be  in  a  hurry  to 
go." 

"You  are  all  delightfully  kind  and  good.  This 
sort  of  life,  I  fear,  will  unfit  me  for  lodgings  in 


78  jack's  courtship. 

London.  I  am  afraid  it  will  make  me  want  to  get 
married,  Amelia." 

"Well,"  says  she,  laughing,  "you  ought  not  to 
find  much  trouble  when  you  do  make  up  your 
mind.  You  are  very  impressionable — you  will  not 
be  hard  to  please,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  Here  am  I  twenty-five 
years  old,  and  I  have  never  been  in  love  yet." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  she;  "but  you  are  in  love 
now,  aren't  you?  " 

I  coloured,  hesitated,  and  then  exclaimed,  "Yes, 
I  think  I  am — I  am  pretty  sure  I  am.  How  lovely 
she  is  !  how  gentle  !  how  kind !  Who  could  help 
loving  her  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  mean  by  your  being  impres- 
sionable," said  Amelia,  laughing  pleasantly.  "You 
arrived  here  last  evening ;  it  is  now  about  three 
o'clock,  and  in  that  time  you  have  fallen  in  love." 

"  Well,  don't  make  a  joke  of  it,  Amelia.  If  it 
isn't  permissible  to  fall  in  love  with  a  girl  like 
Florence  Hawke  almost  as  fast  as  one  can  look  at 
her,  why  should  nature  allow  the  emotion  to  exist  ? 
Eh,  I  think  that's  a  puzzler,  isn't  it?  "  and  I  heard 
myself  laughing  harshly. 

"  I  am  not  making  a  joke  of  it,  Jack,"  answered 
Amelia.  "  I  believe  if  I  were  a  man  I  should  fall 
in  love  with  Florence  myself.  I  don't  mean  to 
say  that  she  is  so  wondrously  beautiful  as  the  gen- 
tlemen profess  to  find  her ;  but  she  has  a  sweet 


SOME   SACRED   MUSIC.  79 

character,  and  if  I  were  a  man  that  is  what  I 
should  like  best  in  a  wife." 

"Yes,  and  that  is  exactly  what  I  like  best  in 
Florence "  (what  a  horrible  hypocrite  I  was  !  ). 
And  then  a  cloud  gathering  upon  my  brow,  "I 
wish,"  I  mumbled  moodily,  "  I  had  never  seen  her. 
I  shall  have  her  on  the  brain,  and  no  good  can 
come  of  it.  Her  father  has  got  hold  of  the  tiller 
and  will  steer  her  as  he  wants,  and  the  very  sweet- 
ness of  character  you  speak  of  is  just  an  assurance 
that  she  will  answer  her  helm.  Besides,  what 
chance  should  I  stand,  in  any  case  ?  "  And  with 
my  stick  I  let  fly  at  the  twigs  of  the  hedge  past 
which  we  were  walking. 

"  I  think  she  is  disposed  to  like  you,  do  you 
know,  Jack  ?  "  said  Amelia. 

"  What  put  that  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  We  were  talking  of  you  in  the  bedroom,  and 
she  said  she  enjoyed  your  frank  manners.  It  was 
like  going  a  voyage  to  sit  with  you,  she  said." 

"  Ah  !  " 

"  She  also  observed  that  the  difference  between  a 
young  man  like  Mr.  Morecombe  and  a  young  man 
like  you  was  the  difference  between  the  hot  atmo- 
sphere of  an  evening  party  and  the  bright  breeze  of 
the  sea-shore.  No,"  she  continued,  "  I'm  wrong. 
It  was  I  who  said  that.  But  she  agreed  with  me 
so  thoroughly  that  it  was  just  the  same  as  if  she 
had  said  it." 


80  jack's  courtship. 

"  What  else  did  she  say  ?  " 

"  Why,"  she  answered,  trying  to  remember,  "  I 
think  she  then  changed  the  subject  by  speaking  of 
her  dog." 

"May  I  smoke  a  cigar?"  I  asked.  She  gave 
me  permission.  "Can  you  explain,"  I  asked,  "how 
it  is  that  Mr.  Alphonso  Hawke,  if  he  is  so  very 
anxious  to  marry  his  daughter,  both  daughters 
I  presume,  to  blood,  should  be  living  here  instead 
of  in  London,  where  his  means  should  enable 
him  to  get  the  class  of  man  he  wants  about 
him  ?  " 

"  You  say  both  daughters ;  but  Emily  Hawke  is 
never  likely  to  marry,"  answered  Amelia.  "  The 
poor  thing  is  little  better  than  an  invalid.  She 
suffers  from  a  weak  or  curved  spine,  and  her  chest 
is  affected.  Periodically  she  visits  some  fashionable 
doctor  in  London,  and  that  is  why,  I  believe,  she 
is  away  with  her  father  now.  I  am  sure  I  cannot 
tell  why  Mr.  Hawke  does  not  live  in  London. 
Perhaps  he  is  not  so  very  sure  of  being  able  to  get 
the  society  he  likes.  This  place  agrees  with  him 
and  Emily,  he  told  papa.  Besides,  if  Mr.  More- 
combe  comes  up  to  his  idea  of  an  eligible  young 
man,  then,  as  he  has  got  him,  and  as  one  is 
enough  —  for  we  are  not  Mormons  at  Clifton, 
Jack — he  may  think  it  would  only  be  a  waste  of 
money  to  live  in  London  for  the  sake  of  getting 
others." 


SOME   SACRED  MUSIC.  81 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  got  him,  Amelia  ?  "  I 
rattled  out.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  his 
marriage  with  Miss  Florence  is  settled  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  is  in  Mr.  Hawke's  mind,  and  no 
doubt  in  young  Morecoinbe's.  But  not  in  Flo- 
rence's ;  she  is  not  likely  to  accept  a  man  she  can 
ridicule." 

"That's  no  guarantee!"  I  muttered.  "But 
gracious  mercy !  if  it  is  only  a  question  of  blood 
with  Mr.  Hawke,  cannot  he  get  higher  than  young 
Morecombe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  he  is  evidently  satisfied  with  the  blood 
of  the  Morecombes." 

"  I  wish  I  could  spill  it !  I  wish  some  one  would 
shed  it !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  If  the  father  attacks  his 
daughter  on  one  side  and  the  representative  of  the 
blood  of  the  Morecombes  attacks  her  on  the  other, 
she  must  yield :  she  is  doomed ;  her  amiability 
will  be  her  fatality.  She  will  be  crushed  under  the 
nuns  of  her  own  good  nature." 

"Is  it  not  a  little  early  for  you  to  begin  to  tear 
your  hair,  Jack  ?  "  said  Amelia,  laughing  heartily. 
"  You  really  cannot  have  made  up  your  mind  upon 
the  state  of  your  heart  yet.    Wait  a  little." 

"Whatever  may  be  the  state  of  my  heart, 
Amelia,"  said  I,  "  I  have  bared  it  to  you,  and 
you  will  respect  the  solemn  secret  you  have  beheld 
in  it." 

"Oh,  certainly!" 

VOL.  I.  ° 


82  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  You  will  not  breathe  a  word  of  this  conversa- 
tion to  your  papa  or  mamma  ?  " 

"  Not  a  syllable.  There  is  nothing  to  breathe." 
And  as  she  said  this,  with  difficulty  preserving  her 
gravity,  we  entered  the  grounds  of  my  uncle's 
house. 


(    33    ) 


CHAPTEK  V. 


MR.    ALPHONSO    HAWKE. 


It  is  a  mistake  to  ask  a  woman  not  to  breathe  a 
syllable.  She  cannot  be  trusted,  least  of  all  with 
another  person's  love- secret.  She  can  keep  her 
own,  but  not  yours  or  mine.  And  indeed  very  often 
she  cannot  keep  her  own.  I  remember  a  young 
gentleman  telling  me  that,  having  fallen  in  love 
with  a  girl,  he  proposed  to  her  in  a  very  neat  letter 
that  had  cost  him  nearly  a  quire  of  expensive 
paper.  She  answered  by  return,  declining  his 
offer,  hoping  he  would  forgive  her,  and  that  they 
would  continue  friends.  She  had  destroyed  his 
letter,  she  said;  and  as  she  did  not  mean  to  breathe 
a  syllable  of  what  had  passed  between  them,  she 
hoped  he  would  be  silent  too.  Meanwhile  he  was 
to  be  sure  to  come  to  their  dance  next  so  and  so. 
Well,  his  heart  having  been  declined,  it  suited  him 
very  well  to  be  silent ;  and  nothing  but  his  faith 
in  her  promise  of  secrecy,  coupled  with  his  anxiety 
to  gaze  on  her  once  more,  could  have  furnished 


84  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

him  with  sufficient  fortitude  to  present  himself  at 
the  dance  given  by  the  young  lady's  mamma. 
The  behaviour  of  the  numerous  family  satisfied 
him  that  nobody  knew  he  had  proposed  to  the  girl, 
and  he  danced  in  a  collected  and  easy  posture  of 
mind.  But  what  was  the  truth?  He  ultimately 
won  the  girl's  love,  and  when  they  were  married 
she  said,  "  Of  course,  Montague,  I  showed  your 
letter  to  papa  and  mamma,  and  my  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  poor  Aunt  Jane — you  remember  dear 
Aunt  Jane  ? — for  was  it  to  be  supposed,  Montague, 
that  I  could  hide  such  a  serious  thing  as  an  offer 
of  marriage  from  my  family  ?  " 

Amelia  served  me  in  that  way.  She  went  and 
told  Sophie  that  I  had  confessed,  "Yes,  my  dear, 
confessed — only  think !  "  to  being  deeply  in  love 
with  Florence  Hawke.  Sophie  gave  the  news  to 
her  mother,  who  handed  it  on  to  my  uncle.  No 
doubt  they  all  pledged  one  another  to  secrecy. 
But  my  uncle  could  not  hold  his  tongue ;  and  on 
the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  I  had  lunched 
with  Miss  Hawke,  the  ladies  having  retired  to  rest, 
and  he  and  I  being  alone,  sitting  in  the  open 
window  and  smoking  cigars,  he  spoke  as  follows : — 

"  So,  my  boy"  (and  this  was  the  delicate  way 
he  approached  the  subject),  "  they  tell  me  you  are 
head  over  ears  in  love  with  Florence  Hawke.'* 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  I  observed. 

"All  your  relations,"  he  answered.     "But  why 


MR.   ALPHONSO  HAWKE.  85 

d'ye  want  to  keep  it  a  secret  ?  And  yet  I  don't 
know.  You're  right  to  be  'sly  if  you're  sincere ; 
for  if  Hawke  twigs  your  sentiment,  stand  by ! 
But  I  say,  Jack,  how  on  earth  can  you  be  in  love 
with  a  girl  you  have  only  met  once  or  twice,  and 
have  only  heard  of  during  the  last  twenty-four 
hours  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  can't  tell  you,"  said  I. 

"  Why,  it  took  me  eight  months  to  make  up  my 
mind  to  offer  for  your  aunt — a  handsomer  woman 
then  than  Florence  is  now,  make  no  mistake  about 
that,  sir.  A  proper  female ;  a  lady  in  heart  and 
a  woman  in  beauty,  young  man." 

"  That  she  is  still,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  every  inch  of  her.  Eight  months,  I  say, 
it  took  me  to  resolve ;  and  here  are  you  ripe  in  less 
than  twenty-four  hours  for  the  parson  to  operate 
on.  But  this  is  the  age  of  locomotives — the  sixty  - 
mile-an-hour  epoch ;  and  a  correct  portrait  of  the 
period  should  represent  it  as  pelting  before  a 
hurricane,  holding  its  gray  hair  on  with  both 
hands." 

"  I  think  you  forge  ahead  a  trifle  too  fast,"  said 
I.  "I  greatly  admire  Miss  Hawke,  and  so  do  you." 
He  nodded.  "  But  when  you  speak  of  my  being 
desperately  in  love  you're  giving  a  character  to 
my  admiration  that  I  really  can't  say  it  yet 
possesses." 

"Well,  my  lad,"  said  he,  "I  don't  know  what's 


86  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

in  your  mind,  nor  does  it  matter.  But  I'll  tell 
you  this :  you'll  be  a  lucky  fellow  if  you  win  her. 
I  should  say  she  was  good  for  ten  thousand  pounds, 
if  a  penny,  with  more  to  come.  Moreover,  she's 
a  lady,  which  is  a  fine  thing  for  one's  friends,  and 
a  beauty,  which  is  a  fine  thing  for  oneself.  Any 
help  I  can  give  you,  Jack,  you  may  command. 
Your  aunt  may  hang  a  bit  in  the  wind,  as  she's 
got  to  work  the  sense  of  duty  to  her  neighbour  off 
her  mind;  but  your  cousins  are  at  your  service, 
and  with  a  pair  of  clever  girls  to  do  your  love- 
errands  you  should  be  able  to  out -weather  old  Nick 
himself,  where  he  Florence's  papa." 

Though  I  could  talk  as  offhandedly  as  he,  I  was 
not  without  a  stock  of  native  modesty ;  and  we 
were  now  upon  a  subject  which  sentiment  had  to 
a  certain  extent  consecrated,  and  which  I  felt  ought 
to  be  approached  hat  in  hand,  so  that  I  did  not 
much  care  to  humour  my  uncle's  irreverent,  com- 
mercial, and  half-jeering  allusions  to  it.  I  therefore 
without  much  trouble  drew  him  away  from  the 
subject,  and  was  presently  splitting  my  sides  over 
some  capital  Yankee  stories  he  related ;  though 
when  I  went  to  my  bedroom  I  hung  for  a  long 
half-hour  over  Miss  Florence's  photograph,  and 
when  in  bed  lay  so  great  a  while  full  of  thought, 
that  the  sparrows  were  twittering  on  the  trees  when 
I  fell  asleep.    Was  I  to  get  no  rest  at  Clifton  ? 

Next  morninef  I  took  mv  cousins  for  a  drive  in 


MR.  ALPHONSO  HAWKE.  87 

the  phaeton,  and  when  we  were  fairly  under  way  I 
said  to  Amelia  : — 

"  Do  you  remember  promising  not  to  breathe 
a  syllable  ?  " 

"Of  what?"  asked  she. 

"  Of  our  talk  yesterday  when  we  returned  from 
Clifton  Lodge." 

"Yes;  and  I  kept  my  word.  Sophie  asked 
questions,  particularly  if  you  were  not  in  love  with 
Florence,  and  I  said  yes,  you  were." 

"  And  why  shouldn't  we  know  ? "  exclaimed 
good-natured  Sophie.  "  We  are  naturally  interested 
in  you  and  in  Florence  too." 

I  had  to  thank  her  for  this,  which  of  course  put 
an  end  to  my  reproaches. 

"  By-the-by,  Jack,"  said  Amelia,  "  I  forgot  to 
ask  you  for  Florence's  portrait,  which  you  very 
kindly  put  into  your  pocket  to  keep  for  me." 

"  I'll  go  on  keeping  it  for  you,"  I  replied.  "  You 
may  trust  me ;  it  will  be  quite  safe." 

Both  the  girls  laughed,  and  Amelia  said : — 

"  I  did  not  tell  you,  Sophie,  that  when  Jack  was 
admiring  Florence's  portrait  she  turned  to  me  and 
asked  me  if  I  would  like  it.  Do  you  think  she  was 
sure  it  would  find  its  way  through  me  to  Jack  or 
through  Jack  to  me?  Upon  my  word,  she  is  a 
deep  Little  thing." 

"  Is  she  a  flirt  ?  "  I  asked,  not  much  relishing 
my  cousin's  applause  of  her. 


88  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"If  she  were  should  I  tell  you?"  answered 
Amelia,  laughing  loudly.  "  No,  no  ;  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  esprit  des  corps  among  women :  we  may 
sneer  at  one  another  among  ourselves,  but  right- 
minded  females  never  expose  the  sex's  infirmities 
to  the  common  enemy." 

"Besides,  Jack,"  says  Sophie,  "no  girl  is  sup- 
posed to  know  whether  another  is  a  flirt  or  not. 
It  is  for  men  to  make  the  discovery." 

Well,  to  be  sure  all  this  was  very  twopenny  talk 
— the  chatter  of  three  young  relations  driving  along 
a  road  in  a  phaeton ;  but  it  pleased  and  amused 
me.  I  found  that  these  girls  enjoyed  conversing 
on  the  subject  of  love,  and  that  they  were  quite 
disposed  to  encourage  me  to  make  a  fool  of  myself 
over  Miss  Hawke.  There  are  women  who  like  to 
set  people  quarrelling  with  one  another,  and  there 
are  women  who  like  to  set  people  making  love  to 
one  another.  My  cousins  were  of  this  order,  and 
their  papa  perhaps  knew  their  peculiarity  when  he 
spoke  of  them  as  a  couple  of  clever  girls,  willing  to 
run  on  any  errands  I  might  want  to  put  them  to. 

And,  upon  my  word,  if  I  were  a  girl  I  should 
think  that  the  next  best  fun  to  having  a  sweetheart 
is  to  act  as  factotum  to  a  pair  of  lovers ;  to  enjoy 
the  confidence  of  both ;  to  patch  up  damaged  feel- 
ings ;  to  convey  letters,  and  see  the  comedy,  as  I 
may  say,  from  the  wings  instead  of  from  the  front. 
But  it  is  a  woman's  business,  and  to  perform  her 


MB.  ALPHONSO  HAWKE.  S9 

part  to  her  own  and  the  satisfaction  of  others,  she 
not  only  requires  plenty  of  leisure,  but  she  must 
be  emotional  if  not  hysterical,  and  exceedingly 
amiable ;  nor,  perhaps,  can  she  be  held  absolutely 
qualified  for  the  arduous  post  unless  she  is  able  to 
show  that  she  has  been  in  love  herself,  and  knows 
what  blighted  feelings  are. 

We  returned  home  at  half-past  twelve,  and  as  I 
drove  up  to  the  door  I  saw  my  uncle  walking  under 
the  trees  with  a  tall  man  wearing  a  beard,  his 
upper  lip  shaved. 

"  It's  Mr.  Hawke !  "  said  Amelia  ;  and  when  the 
girls  alighted  they  went  up  to  him  and  shook 
hands.  I  followed  when  the  groom  was  near 
enough  to  catch  the  reins  I  flung  to  him,  and 
my  uncle  introduced  me.  Mr.  Hawke  made  a  very 
stately  bow.  This  was  evidently  the  first  he  had 
heard  of  me  ;  and  when  he  regained  his  rarnrod 
erectness  he  scrutinized  me  with  as  keen  a  pair  of 
eyes  as  were  ever  levelled  at  a  youth.  He  was  a 
tolerably  good-looking  man,  tall  and  well  dressed. 
He  was  certainly  very  different  from  the  burly 
colonial  I  had  somehow  pictured  him.  He  carried 
a  very  grave  expression  of  face,  and  the  skirts  of 
his  coat  being  long  and  his  beard  hiding  the 
furniture  of  his  neck,  he  might  have  been  mistaken 
for  a  clergyman.  A  pair  of  gold  eye-glasses  dangled 
upon  his  ample  surface  of  waistcoat,  a  large 
diamond   flashed   upon    one    hand  that    was  un- 


90  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

gloved,  and  in  the  other  hand  was  a  stout  cane 
adorned  with  a  heavy  gold  knob.  I  noticed  that 
he  spoke  slowly,  with  a  degree  of  deliberation 
that  was  both  tiresome  and  disturbing,  as  it 
suggested  not  only  a  solicitude  as  to  his  choice 
of  words,  but  misgivings  as  to  his  capacity  of 
delivering  them  when  selected. 

Sophie  asked  after  his  daughter  Emily. 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Seymour,  she  is  as  well  as 
we  have  a  right  to  expect.  Sir  Timothy  Tomson 
thinks  that  no  change  of  air  is  at  present  necessary. 
The  journey  home  fatigued  her — aw — poor  thing, 
but  a  night's  rest  has,  I  am  happy  to  say,  restored 
her."  And  then  addressing  me,  "What  do  you 
think  of  Clifton,  sir  ?  Is  this  your  first — aw — 
your  first  visit  ?  " 

"It  is,"  I  replied.  "I  only  arrived  the  night 
before  last ;  but  what  I  have  seen  delights  me." 

"  And  mind  you,  Mr.  Hawke,"  says  my  uncle, 
"my  nephew  Jack's  opinion  is  not  to  be  despised, 
for  he  has  visited  Sydney  Harbour." 

"  Oh,  you  know  Sydney  ? — indeed !  "  exclaimed 
the  old  fellow,  as  if  my  knowing  Sydney  rather 
disconcerted  him.  "Pray  how  do  you  know 
Sydney?" 

"  As  a  sailor,  sir." 

"Oh,  as  a  sailor!  Yes,  just  so.  You  will  not 
— aw — have  much  aquaintance  with  it.  My 
recollection  is  that  sailors    are    only    allowed   to 


MK.  ALPHONSO  HAWKE.  91 

go  ashore — I  believe — aw — that  is  the  expression 
— to  go  ashore  at  night,  as  they  have  to  work 
all  day." 

"Quite  right,"  said  I;  "I  see  that  you  know 
something  about  the  nautical  calling." 

"Not  much,  not  much,  indeed,"  he  replied, 
never  relaxing  his  distressing  gravity,  and  speak- 
ing as  if  on  the  whole  any  knowledge  of  the 
nautical  calling  was  calculated  to  lead  to  social 
prejudice  :  "  having  lived  in  Australia  I  have — 
aw — had  necessarily  to  cross  the  ocean  to  reach 
England,  and  have  had  opportunities  of  inspecting 
well — aw — perhaps  not  of  inspecting — of  witness- 
ing  " 

"  In  short,"  cut  in  my  uncle  unceremoniously, 
"you  have  seen  enough  of  Jack's  life  to  know 
something  about  it  ?  " 

"Aw — yes,"  replied  Mr.  Hawke,  giving  a  little 
scowl  round  to  let  us  understand  that  he  had 
been  at  no  loss  for  words.  "You  didn't,  perhaps," 
continued  he,  addressing  me,  "  know  Sir  Wilkinson 
Smith  at  Sydney?" 

"  No,"  said  I. 

"Nor  his  chawming  lady?  Who,  by  the  way, 
Mr.  Seymour,"  speaking  to  my  uncle,  "turns  out 
to  be  a  connection  of  Lord  Wear,  my  friend  Sir 
Eeginald  Morecombe's  cousin." 

"We  should  call  that  a  coincidence  in  Canada," 
said  my  uncle,  giving  me  a  look.     "  By  the  way, 


92  jack's  couetship. 

Mr.  Hawke,  have  you  brought  Mr.  Morecorabe 
along  with  you  to  Clifton  ?  " 

Mr.  Hawke  answered  yes,  and  that  he  and 
Florence  were  out  riding,  a  piece  of  news  that 
caused  Sophie  to  steal  a  peep  at  me,  whilst  it 
excited  in  the  depths  of  my  soul  an  evil  wish 
that  the  fellow  would  break  his  neck  before  he 
got  home. 

We  stood  all  five  of  us  conversing  for  some 
time  under  the  trees.  It  did  not  take  me  long 
to  discover  that  Mr.  Alphonso  Hawke  was  a 
pompous  old  bore,  with  an  early  training  and 
history  of  which  he  was  ashamed,  and  to  the 
veneering  of  which  he  was  devoting  his  declining 
years.  I  was  struck  by  his  way  of  speaking,  the 
cautious  manner  in  which  he  groped  along  with 
his  tongue,  saying  aw,  and  ah,  merely  to  enable 
him  to  pause  and  make  sure,  and  the  fine  airs 
he  put  on  (which  he  may  have  seen  and  admired 
in  Sir  "Wilkinson  Smith  and  his  chawming  lady, 
a  connection  of  the  Morecombes)  when  he  addressed 
my  cousins.  His  want  of  ease  was  the  most 
harassing  part  of  him.  He  was  indeed  one  of 
those  men  to  whom  you  long  to  say,  "  For  good- 
ness sake  try  not  to  be  genteel,  and  pray  cease 
to  act  as  a  person  of  breeding.  Drop  an  h,  sir, 
for  the  comfort  of  your  friends,  now  and  then. 
Kindly  be  vulgar  and  natural." 

At  last    he  went    away,    declining    my  uncle's 


MR.  ALPHOXSO  HAWKE.  03 

invitation  to  stop  to  lunch  with  a  large  and 
portly  wave  of  the  hand,  and  a  smile  that 
exposed  what  I  suspected  then  and  know  now  to 
have  been  a  splendid  set  of  false  teeth.  He  gave 
the  ladies  an  immense  bow  as  he  quitted  them, 
and  I  watched  with  an  emotion,  almost  of  awe, 
the  solemnity  of  his  tread  and  the  full-blown 
dignity  of  his  consequential  carriage  as  he  walked 
by  my  uncle's  side  to  the  gate. 

"Well,  Jack,"  said  my  uncle,  returning,  and 
looking  at  me  with  a  grin,  "what  d'ye  think  of 
your  future  father-in-law  ?  " 

"Hush,  papa!  for  gracious  goodness  sake," 
cried  Amelia  in  a  terrified  voice,  casting  her  eyes 
in  the  direction  in  which  old  Hawke  had  dis- 
appeared. 

"  Tut,  tut,"  said  my  uncle,  "  he's  out  of  hearing, 
silly." 

"  He  fits  the  character  you  gave  him  to  a  hair," 
said  I;  "he  is  a  prig." 

"  Ay,  a  prig,"  exclaimed  my  uncle:  "but  isn't 
he  a  fine  specimen  of  one  ?  isn't  he  worth  knowing 
as  a  prig  ?  You're  not  going  to  meet  with  such  a 
sample  as  that  every  day,  my  hearty.  May  I  be 
shivered  if  the  sight  of  him  alone  isn't  worth  a 
long  journey." 

"Really,  papa,"  said  Sophie  remonstratively, 
"  he  is  our  friend,  dear.  He  is  Florence's  father. 
If  we  cannot  speak  well  of  him,  let  us  say  nothing.'" 


84  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"True,"  said  I,  "he  is  Florence's  papa;  we 
must  speak  well  of  him." 

"  Sophie,  my  love,"  said  my  uncle  with  fine 
gravity,  "  let  us,  as  the  moralist  says,  clear  our 
minds  of  cant.  Who  would  care  to  have,  who 
would  be  bothered  with  aquaintances,  if  the  know- 
ing them  were  conditional  on  never  saying  anything 
ill-natured  behind  their  backs  ?  Do  you  think 
Hawke  don't  sneer  at  me  f  Do  you  suppose  that 
he  doesn't  ridicule  my  wideawake,  the  cut  of  my 
boots,  my  indifference  to  the  aristocracy  as  lords 
and  ladies — not,  Jack,  as  men  and  women  ?  No,  I 
can  respect  honest  people  even  when  they  are  titled. 
But  though  Hawke  sneers  at  me,  he  asks  me  -to 
dine  with  him :  and  though  I  laugh  at  his  cheap 
pretensions,  I  accept  his  invitation  and  return  it." 

"It's  the  way  of  the  world,  Sophie,"  said  I. 
"  But  I  own  that  Mr.  Hawke  is  a  bigger  disappoint- 
ment than  I  expected.  How  the  dickens  came 
his  most  lovely  daughter  to  be  a  relative  of  his  ?  " 

"  I  say,  Jack,"  cried  my  uncle  rather  maliciously, 
"  did  you  hear  him  say  that  Florence  and  young 
Morecombe  were  out  riding  ?  Man,  you  must  keep 
your  weather  eye  lifting.  Don't  let  this  be  a  stern- 
chase,  for  the  pretty  little  craft  will  have  been 
boarded  by  the  fellow  who's  already  abreast  of  her 
before  you  can  come  up  with  her." 

"Pray  don't  make  my  admiration  of  the  girl  too 
significant,"  said  I,  not  liking  this  banter  at  all. 


MB.  ALPHONSO   HAWKE.  95 

"  If  Morecombe  boards  her,  it  will  be  because  she 
allows  him  to  do  so.  And  if  I  don't  overhaul  her, 
it  may  be  because  I  reckon  my  spars  more  valuable 
than  the  chase's  capture." 

"  Don't  talk  Greek !  "  exclaimed  Sophie,  who  had 
listened  eagerly.  '  What  with  boarding  and  over- 
hauling and  stern-chasing  and  such  stuff,  it  is 
impossible  to  find  out  your  meaning." 

"  There  is  no  meaning  to  find  out,"  said  I. 
And  here  my  aunt  stood  up  in  the  window  and 
called  out  that  lunch  was  ready. 


(    96    ) 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

A   LITTLE    DINNER   AT    CLIFTON   LODGE. 

Some  days  after  this  we  went  to  dine  at  Clifton 
Lodge.     My  going  fell  out  in  this  way. 

Miss  Hawke  called  one  morning  to  ask  the 
Seymours  to  dine  en  famille  on  such  and  such  an 
evening.  I  had  taken  my  uncle's  little  mare  for  a 
canter,  and  when  I  returned  and  heard  that  Miss 
Hawke  had  called,  I  could  have  pulled  a  handful  of 
hair  out  of  my  head  with  vexation.  It  was  a  week 
since  I  had  set  eyes  on  her.  In  vain  had  I  sneaked 
out  when  nohody  was  looking,  and  hung  about  the 
roads  which  I  thought  she  was  bound  to  pass  along, 
whether  riding  or  driving  or  walking.  To  no  pur- 
pose, I  say.  And  then  all  on  a  sudden  she  calls 
and  I  miss  her  ! 

However,  I  smothered  my  feelings,  and  asked  in 
a  collected  voice  the  reason  of  her  visit.  It  was 
Sophie  to  whom  I  put  this  question,  and  we  were 
alone. 

"  She  called  to  ask  us  to  dinner." 


A  LITTLE   DINNER   AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.       97 

"  Oh  indeed !  "  said  I,  brightening  up.  "  What's 
the  date?" 

Sophie  named  it. 

"  Did  she  bring  any  news  ?  "  said  I.  "  Anything 
fresh  going  forward  at  Clifton  Lodge  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  brought  no  news,"  says  Sophie. 

"  Nothing  about  young  Morecombe  ?  She'd  tell 
you,  wouldn't  she,  if  he  had  proposed  ?  " 

"  She'd  tell  nie,  I  believe,  if  she  had  accepted 
him,"  she  answered,  "but  I  don't  think  she  will 
accept  him — at  least,  I  hope  she  won't." 

I  plucked  at  my  bit  of  a  moustache — there  was 
not  enough  of  it  to  de-sailorize  my  countenance — 
and  said  :  "  Mr.  Hawke  is  very  polite  to  invite  me. 
When  I  met  him  the  other  day  I  couldn't  help  fancy- 
ing that  he  eyed  me  as  if  I  might  be  a  youth  that 
would  admire  his  daughter :  and  I  suppose  admira- 
tion for  her  in  any  other  man  than  Mr.  Morecombe 
would  be  worse  than  poison  to  the  old  gentleman." 

"To  be  candid,  Jack,"  says  Sophie,  with  an  air 
of  reluctance  in  her  gentle  manner,  "  Florence  did 
not  include  you — I  mean  she  did  not  mention  your 
name.  She  asked  mamma  and  papa  and  Amelia 
and  me." 

"Oh!"  said  I. 

"  But  it  doesn't  in  the  least  signify,"  continued 
she.  "  It  was  a  pure  oversight  on  her  part.  Of 
course  you'll  go  ?  " 

"  Go  !  "    said   I.     "  Go   to   Jericho,  you  mean. 

VOL.  I.  H 


98  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

What !  go  where  I  am  not  asked  ?  Why,  I'd  rather 
hang  myself  up  hy  the  neck  until  I  was  dead,  other- 
wise what  mercy  should  I  expect  for  my  soul  ?  " 
"  Nonsense,"  said  Sophie.  "  You  will  go." 
Upon  my  word  I  was  so  angry,  so  disappointed, 
that  I  was  ungallant  enough  to  wish  that  my  affec- 
tionate cousin  had  been  a  man,  merely  to  ease  my 
mind  by  telling  her  I  would  see  her,  etc.  Observ- 
ing my  temper  and  vexation — and  I  believe  this 
did  more  to  open  her  kind  eyes  to  the  state  of  my 
heart  than  had  I  sat  down  and  indited  volumes 
about  it — she  dropped  the  subject  and  so  did  I, 
so  far  as  words  went :  but  I  very  well  remember 
carrying  it  into  the  grounds,  up  into  a  corner,  into 
a  summer  arbour,  where,  armed  with  a  large  pipe, 
I  turned  it  over,  kicked  it,  ground  it  under  heel, 
and,  as  I  actually  endeavoured  to  make  myself 
believe,  buried  the  mutilated  thing  along  with  the 
imbecile  sentiment  that  had  kept  me  feverish  and 
foolish  ever  since  the  hour  I  had  first  entered  my 
uncle's  house. 

Of  course  I  was  unreasonable.  Wliat  right  had 
I  to  expect  to  be  included  in  the  invitation  to  dine  ? 
Who  was  I  that  she  should  trouble  herself  even  to 
remember  that  such  a  person  existed  when  I  was 
out  of  sight  ?  And  yet  I  felt  'that  it  would  have 
done  me  good  to  have  expended  myself  in  an  Irish 
riot,  for  the  sake  and  pleasure  of  knocking  anybody 
over  the  head.     Was  her  nature  perfidious  ?     Was 


A  LITTLE   DINNER   AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.       99 

all  her  talk  about  Mr.  Morecombe  being  a  fool  and 
the  like  fudge  ?  It  was  ;  I  say,  I  feared  it  was, 
and  I  ground  my  heel  into  the  soil  of  the  summer 
arbour. 

"Well,  in  this  posture  of  mind  was  I  sitting, 
smoking  and  writhing,  when  I  heard  Sophie  calling 
"Jack!  Jack!" 

"  Halloo  !  "  I  grumbled. 

"  Where  are  you,  Jack  ?  "  she  cried. 

"Here,"  said  I,  and  I  went  out  of  the  arbour 
that  she  might  see  me. 

She  came  running  along,  red  with  heat  and 
radiant  with  pleasure,  and  flourished  a  little  square 
of  gray  paper.  I  saw  the  gilt  edge  of  it  sparkle, 
and  observed  that  it  bore  the  creases  of  a  cocked- 
hat  note. 

"  Read  that,  you  foolish  mope  !  "  says  she  ; 
and  she  put  the  letter  into  my  hand.  It  was  as 
fragrant  as  jessamine  ;  it  was  adorned  with  a  crest 
in  blue  and  gold,  and  the  crest  embodied  a  goose 
with  its  bill  cocked  up ;  the  paper  was  ribbed  and 
thick,  delightful  to  feel— a  truly  lovable  thing  to 
handle.  The  handwriting  was  clear  and  decisive  : 
it  might  have  passed  for  a  man's.  Thus  ran  the 
missive  : — 

"Dearest  Sophie, 

"When   I   arrived   home  after   calling 
upon  you,  it  flashed  upon  me  that  I  had  omitted  to 


100  jack's  courtship. 

ask  you  to  bring  your  cousin,  Mr.  Jack  Seymour, 
next, Thursday  evening.  I  am  sure  I  cannot  account 
for  this  foolish  and  most  unintentional  omission, 
unless  I  put  it  down  to  my  habit  of  thinking  of 
your  family  as  consisting  of  four  only.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  that  poor  Flora  is  much  icorsc. 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  Florence  Hawke. 

"P.S. — Do  not  let  your  cousin  know  that  I  for- 
got him." 

"  There,"  said  Sophie,  as  I  looked  up  from  the 
letter,  "  you  can  pin  that  to  her  photograph  and 
keep  it." 

A  dark  suspicion  entered  my  mind.  Had  Sophie 
written  to  ask  her  to  invite  me  ?  had  she  requested 
her  to  write  as  if  the  after-thought  were  her  own  ? 
No :  it  needed  but  very  little  reflection  to  see  that 
there  had  not  been  time  enough  to  admit  of  such 
a  stratagem.  It  was  a  genuine  letter,  and  yet  I 
would  not  appear  too  well  pleased  either. 

"How  do  you  know  that  I  want  to  keep  it?" 
said  I,  dangling  the  note. 

"  Then  tear  it  up,"  said  Sophie,  with  a  laugh  of 
bland  defiance. 

"  That  wouldn't  be  polite,"  I  replied.  "  I  never 
act  impulsively,"  and  so  saying  I  put  it  in  my 
pocket. 


A  LITTLE   DINNER  AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     101 

"  Of  course  now  you  will  join  us  ?  "  said  Sophie. 

"Why  should  I?  don't  you  relish  dignity  in 
a  connection  ?  She  was  not  polite  to  forget  me, 
and  there  is  really  a  limit  to  forgiveness,"  said 
I,  in  a  mode  that  still  simmered,  though  I  admit 
that  the  fires  were  drawn. 

"Well,"  said  Sophie,  "you  have  Florence's 
invitation :  she  cannot  do  more  than  ask  you, 
although  I  believe  men  would  like  women  to  go 
on  their  knees  to  them  even  when  they  granted 
favours,  not  to  mention  receiving  them  ;  and  I  am 
quite  rare,  Jack,  that  you  will  do  the  thing  that 
best  pleases  you,"  and  she  turned  to  leave  me. 

Her  speech  was  made  painfully  sarcastic  by  her 
emphasis  on  the  words  granted  and  receiving,  and 
sarcasm  in  a  fat,  affectionate,  amiable  woman  falls 
on  a  man's  intelligence  like  a  box  on  the  ear  falls 
on  the  head.     I  seized  her  hand. 

"  Dear  Sophie — I'm  an  ass,"  I  exclaimed.  "  I 
have  allowed  my  feelings — her  omission  of  my 
name,  do  you  see — the  sort  of  liking  she  seemed 
to  show  for  me — in  fact,  I  ought  to  have  stopped 
in  London." 

My  cousin  melted  like  a  snowflake  on  a  river, 
one  moment  white,  though  I  cannot  say  that  at 
the  next  she  was  gone  for  ever. 

"  No,  Jack,"  said  she.  "  You  wrong  yourself. 
There  is  nothing  wonderful  in  your  liking,  even  in 
your  loving,  Florence  Hawke.     She  likes  you — she 


102  jack's  courtship. 

told  Amelia  so.  "Why  shouldn't  her  liking  become 
love  ?  You  must  not  misjudge  her.  Suppose  she 
purposely  omitted  your  name  in  her  invitation  2 
it  might  have  been  from  fear  of  her  papa.  But 
look  how  honest  she  is !  when  she  gets  home  she 
remembers  the  omission  with  pain,  says,  '  No  !  I 
will  defy  papa  in  this  matter,'  and  she  sits  down 
and  writes  the  letter  you  have  in  your  pocket. 
How  can  you  sneer  at  her  ?  " 

"Sneer !  "  I  shouted. 

"  I  mean,  how  can  you  talk  about  your  dignity  ? 
Poor  girl !  You  know  she  stands  alone.  She  has 
to  cope  with  her  father's  wishes,  and  the  attentions 
of  the  wretched  creature  her  papa  wants  her  to 
marry.  No,  Jack ;  if  I  were  you  I  should  feel 
grateful  for  the  spirit  that  prompted  her  to  write 
that  letter,  and  I  should  certainly  try  to  please  her 
by  making  her  understand  how  deeply  you  admire 
her  courage — which  you  can  only  do  by  dining  at 
Clifton  Lodge  on  Thursday." 

"  Say  no  more,  Sophie,"  cried  I  abjectly.  "  I 
shall  dine,  trust  me." 

She  gave  me  a  kindly  nod  and  went  away, 
rather  hurriedly,  I  thought;  perhaps  to  conceal 
her  mirth,  but  in  that  particular  period  of  my  life 
I  was  a  very  suspicious  man,  as  what  youth  is  not 
who  believes  he  is  in  love  ?  When  she  was  out  of 
sight  I  drew  forth  the  letter,  read  it  over  five  or  six 
times,  kissed  the  signature,  and  perpetrated  several 


A   LITTLE   DINNER   AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     103 

extravagances  of  a  like  kind.  I  had  it  by  heart  in 
a  very  short  time,  and  went  on  repeating  sentence 
after  sentence  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  deeper 
meaning  than  lay  on  the  surface.  The  passage 
that  pleased  me  best  was  the  postscript :  "Do  not 
let  your  cousin  know  that  I  forgot  him."  It 
showed  that  her  dog  was  not  the  last  thought  in 
her  mind  when  she  wrote. 

I  look  back  sometimes  at  myself,  ensconced  in 
that  summer-house  reading  Miss  Hawke's  letter, 
and  putting  it  to  my  lips  and  acting  like  a 
Frenchman  in  love  in  a  stage  play.  That  par- 
ticular recollection  somehow  makes  all  that 
followed  so  queer,  so  romantic,  so  wild  to  me  as 
I  view  the  incidents  now,  that  there  are  times 
when  I  can  hardly  persuade  myself  that  what  I 
took  part  in  was  not  a  portion  of  another  life,  like 
one  of  those  fancies  which  sometimes  seize  one, 
of  having  acted  or  done  something  or  undergone 
some  experience  in  another  sphere  of  being  in 
which  one  flourished  before  one  was  born.  But 
let  me  fire  away,  for  at  this  rate  we  shall  never 
get  out  of  Clifton  and  afloat. 

Thursday  evening  came,  and  in  all  my  time  I 
never  shaved  myself  with  keener  solicitude  nor 
dressed  myself  with  livelier  anxiety.  Will  it  be 
credited  that  I  actually  kept  the  ladies  waiting  ? 
Think  of  a  young  fellow  who  for  years  had  been 
accustomed  to  tumble  out  of  his  bunk  and  bundle 


104  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

on  deck  a  couple  of  minutes  after  the  cry  of 
"  Eight  bells !  d'ye  hear  the  news  below  there, 
sleepers  ? "  had  harshly  thundered  down  the 
hatchway,  who  thought  himself  fortunate  if  he 
could  get  a  good  wash-down  once  a  week,  and 
who  would  roll  into  his  clothes  without  taking 
thought  of  his  appearance — think  of  him,  I  say, 
debasing  his  old  sea-traditions  by  a  trick  of  vile 
coxcombry !  Yes,  I  positively  kept  my  aunt  and 
cousins  waiting,  so  that  my  uncle  was  obliged  to 
come  to  my  door  and  beat  upon  it,  and  shout 
"  Jack !  damme  man,  it's  not  a  dance  but  a 
dinner,  d'ye  hear  ?  and  it's  not  polite  to  be  late 
when  you're  asked  to  dine." 

Of  course  I  rushed  out  and  profusely  apologized, 
declaring  that  my  watch  was  wrong,  and  so  forth  ; 
but  my  uncle  would  not  have  that.  "  No,  no,'' 
says  he ;  "  it  isn't  your  watch  that's  out ;  it's 
another  piece  of  mechanism  that's  gone  wrong," 
and  he  smote  himself  upon  his  breast,  and  winked 
at  me  with  all  his  might. 

"You  look  very  nice,  Mr.  Jack,"  said  my  aunt ; 
she  always  gave  me  the  Mister. 

It  was  the  first  time  they  had  seen  me  in  tails, 
and  upon  my  word  I  think  I  may  say  without 
affectation  that  the  dress-coat,  shiny  boots,  white 
tie  and  lavender  kid  gloves,  in  which  I  had 
anxiously  clothed  myself,  made  me  a  very  tolerable 
figure.     My  uncle  was  in  black,  and  wore  an  open 


A   LITTLE  DINNER  AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.     105 

frock  coat.  He  began  to  inveigh  against  the 
waiter's  costume,  as  lie  styled  the  dress  I  had 
figged  myself  out  in.  "It  may  please  those  who 
like  it,"  said  he ;  "  but  you'll  never  catch  me  in 
a  garment  that's  neither  a  jacket  nor  a  coat. 
"What  ?  Sir,  the  tailor  who  invented  that  dress 
had  an  improper  mind.  If  I  am  to  let  the  world 
know  what  sort  of  figure  I  possess,  give  me  tights 
at  once.     Let  me  dance  in  shorts  and  a  jersey." 

My  aunt  made  faces  at  him,  and  tried  to  change 
the  subject  by  bidding  me  take  notice  of  the  moon 
— or  what  there  was  of  it ;  did  it  betoken  wet  ? 
she  wondered.  (We  were  in  the  carriage,  and 
"rowling  along,"  as  Pat  sa}'s;  there  were  five  of 
us,  and  a  tight  fit  it  was  for  me  between  my  two 
cousins).  But  my  uncle  would  take  no  hints.  He 
went  on  abusing  tail-coats  until  his  denunciations 
were  cut  short  by  the  carriage  stopping  at  Clifton 
Lodge. 

We  were  punctual  enough  :  half-past  seven.  A 
most  lovely  evening  it  was,  full  of  dew  and 
•fragrance,  with  a  noble  sunset  in  the  west,  and 
fitter  for  a  ramble  among  the  hedges  than  a 
guzzling  match  among  hot  soups  and  meats.  As 
I  followed  my  cousins  into  the  hall  my  heart  beat 
a  trifle  faster  than  usual.  It  was  not  only  that  I 
was  to  meet  the  girl  that  had  taken  sovereign 
command  of  my  thoughts  ;  I  wTas  going  to  find  her 
in  the  company  of  the  fellow  her  father  had  chosen 


106  jack's  courtship. 

for  her,  and  whom,  by  importunities  and  the 
peculiar  kind  of  moral  pressure  which  fond  parents 
know  how  to]  exert  on  their  beloved  children  w\hilst 
something  they  want  done  remains  undone,  he 
would  ultimately,  no  doubt,  induce  or  compel  her 
to  marry. 

The  footman  flung  open  the  drawing-room  door, 
and  announced  us,  and  in  we  went.  We  found 
Mr.  Hawke  and  his  two  daughters  alone.  With 
winning  and  delightful  grace  (of  course,  I  always 
praise  her,  you  say  :  but  she  deserved  it,  I  tell 
you)  Miss  Florence  received  us,  kissed  Sophie  and 
Amelia,  but  I  could  not  help  fancying  there  was 
a  little  timidity  in  the  way  in  which  she  shook 
hands  with  me.  Had  Sophie  told  her  that  she  had 
shown  me  her  letter,  and  that  I  had  stored  it  away 
along  with  her  picture?  Upon  my  word,  it  is 
impossible  to  tell  not  only  what  girls  do,  but  what 
they  don't  tell  one  another. 

"Let  me  introduce  you  to  my  sister,"  said  she, 
and  she  led  me  up  to  Miss  Emily  Hawke,  whose 
invalidism  was  sufficiently  denned  by  her  wan  face. 
She  would  be  about  seventeen  years  old,  and  she 
had  old  Hawdie's  features  attenuated  by  ill  health, 
and  refined  by  the  circumstance  of  her  not  belong- 
ing to  old  Hawke's  sex.  My  aunt  was  at  her  side, 
full  of  sympathy  and  questions.  So  I  went  over  to 
Mr.  Hawke  and  my  uncle,  leaving  Miss  Florence 
deep  in  conversation  with  my  cousins,  who  I  could 


A  LITTLE  DINNER  AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.     107 

hear  exclaiming  "  Oh  !  "  "  Poor  thing  !  "  "  How 
dreadful !  "  and  so  forth. 

Our  host  was  in  full  puff,  silk  waistcoat,  velvet 
collar  to  his  tail-coat,  plenty  of  jewellery,  highly 
scented,  and  looking  larger  and  more  portly  and 
consequential  than  1  had  first  found  him.  He  was 
telling  my  uncle  that  Sir  Hugo  Perch  and  her 
ladyship,  Sir  Hugo's  wife — "  a  connection  of  the 
Battleabbeys,  Mr.  Seymour — chawming  people  " — - 
were  to  have  come  to  dinner,  but  that  in  consequence 
of  something  or  other,  they — aw — were  obliged  at 
the  last  moment,  etc. 

"  So  we  shall  be  quite  '  ong  famille,'  "  says  he, 
glancing  from  my  uncle's  coat  to  mine.  "  Indeed, 
rather  more  so  than  I  had  anticipated,  for  I — aw — • 
I  regret  to  say  a  most  painful,  really  a  most 
painful,  incident  happened  this  afternoon.  You — \ 
aw — you  remember  my  daughter  Florence's " 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  my  cousins  and  Miss 
Hawke  joining  us. 

"  Oh,  papa  !  "  cried  Sophie,  "  what  do  you  think? 
Florence's  poor,  dear,  darling  old  Flora  is  dead." 

"  Dead  !  "  ejaculated  my  uncle,  not  quite  know- 
ing what  else  to  say. 

"  Worse  than  dead,"  said  Amelia.  u  Killed, 
papa  !  " 

"Killed!"  cried  I;  on  which  methought  Mr. 
Hawke  looked  at  me  as  much  as  to  say,  "What 
the  deuce  is  it  to  you,  sir  ?  " 


108     .  JACK'S  COUETSH1P. 

"I  was  about  to  tell  the  story,"  exclaimed  the 
old  gentleman,  posing  himself  in  such  a  way  as 
to  make  him  seem  all  waistcoat.  "  It's  a  doubly 
unfortunate  circumstance.  It  deprives  my  daughter 
• — a  little  precipitately,  but  that — aw — that  is  all ; 
a  little  before  its  time,  my  love,"  continued  he  with 
a  bland  wave  of  his  hand  to  her,  "of  an  old  and 
attached  friend,  and  ourselves — aw — of  the  pleasure 
of  my  friend  Sir  Keginald  Morecombe  son's 
company  at  dinner  this  evening." 

I  pricked  up  my  ears,  stealing  meanwhile  earnest 
glances  at  Miss  Florence,  who  looked,  I  thought, 
now  that  I  could  take  a  good  peep  at  her,  as  if  she 
had  been  crying. 

"It  happened  in  this  way,"  continued  Mr.  Hawke. 
"  Flora  had  followed  my  daughter  upstairs  ;  but — 
aw — being  exceedingly  infirm — her  age,  Florence, 
could  certainly  not  be  less  than  sixteen  years,  and 
—aw — short  of  breath,  she  failed,  I  presume,  to 
reach  the  landing,  and  lay  down  upon  one  of  the 
steps,  to  await  her  mistress's  return.  Whilst  the 
animal  was  there  Mr.  Morecombe  came  from  his — 
aw — his  bedroom,  and,  not  observing  the  dawg, 
stepped  upon  it,  which,  I  regret  to  say,  caused  him 
to  roll  down  at  least  half  a  dozen  stairs  ;  but  provi- 
dentially he  caught  hold  of  the  banister  and  saved 
himself  from — aw — from  serious  injury.  As  it  was, 
he  severely  sprained  his  ankle,  which  necessitated 
his  removal  to  his  bedroom,  where  he  now  lies." 


A  LITTLE   DINNER   AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     100 

"And  in  stepping  upon  Flora  he  trod  what  re- 
mained of  the  poor  beast's  breath  out  of  her,  I 
suppose  ? "  said  my  uncle,  keeping  his  gravity 
nobly ;  for,  upon  my  word,  I  believe,  had  I  caught 
the  least  shadow  of  a  grin  upon  his  face,  I  should 
have  exploded. 

"  Yes,"  cried  Miss  Hawke,  with  the  tears  standing 
in  her  beautiful  eyes ;  "  papa  thinks  only  of  Mr. 
Morecombe.  When  poor  Flora  was  looked  at  she 
was  stone  dead  ;  and  will  anybod}'  believe  that  Mr. 
Morecombe  did  not  see  her,  or  that  he  did  not  tread 
with  all  his  weight  out  of  spite  ? "  she  added, 
making  a  little  passionate  gesture  with  her  hand. 

"  Is  he  of  a  naturally  cruel  disposition  ?  "  asked 
my  uncle  of  Mr.  Hawke,  with  a  little  droop  in  his 
right  eyelid,  which  I  took  as  meant  for  me. 

"Cruel!  certainly  not,"  exclaimed  the  old  gentle- 
man in  his  amplest  manner,  and  expanding  his 
chest  as  he  spoke.  "Had  he  seen  the  poor  dawg 
he  could  of  course  have  avoided  her.  Can  you 
suppose,  Florence,  that — aw — that  he  would  de- 
liberately sprain  his  ankle?  Yet  you  are  bound, 
my  love,  to  presume  this  if  you  affirm  that  he 
acted  out  of  malice.     Eee-diculous  !  " 

A  footman  announced  dinner.  Mr.  Hawke  gave 
his  arm  to  my  aunt,  and  I  heard  him  tell  my  uncle 
to  take  Miss  Hawke  in ;  but  my  uncle,  instead  of 
offering  his  arm  to  Miss  Florence,  gave  it  to  Miss 
Emily,  and  left  her  sister  to  me.     He  thrust  his 


110  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

tongue  in  his  cheek  as  he  glanced  at  me  over  his 
shoulder.  Heaven  bless  him  !  There  never  was 
a  finer  creature.  With  Miss  Florence  on  my  arm 
I  followed  the  others,  forming  the  tail  of  the  pro- 
cession. The  table  was  so  plentifully  covered  with 
flowers  and  tall  silver  candlesticks  that  Mr.  Hawke 
was,  from  his  position  at  the  head  of  it,  unable  to 
see  the  order  in  which  we  had  arrived  until  we 
were  all  seated.  But  what  could  he  say  when  he 
saw  me  alongside  Miss  Hawke  and  my  uncle  next 
to  Miss  Emily?  His  business  was  to  ask  a  blessing, 
which  he  did  with  his  eyes  closed  and  his  hands 
locked,  and  when  that  was  over  my  uncle  began  to 
talk  to  him,  whilst  one  of  the  flunkeys  served  out 
soup  at  a  side  table  and  the  others  handed  it  round. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  your  sake,"  said  I  to  Miss 
Florence,  "to  hear  of  the  death  of  poor  old  Flora. 
It  would  have  served  your  father's  friend  right  had 
he  broken  his  neck — that  is,  if  he  stepped  on  the 
dog  purposely  because  she  happened  to  be  in  the 
road." 

"  Flora  was  my  poor  mother's  pet,"  she  replied. 
"  She  has  been  a  constant  companion  of  mine  for 
years,  and  it  bitterly  grieves  me  to  think  that  the 
poor  animal  should  have  been  killed  at  the  last, 
and  cruelly  killed,  even  admitting  that  Mr.  More- 
combe  did  tread  upon  her  by  accident.  But  we'll 
say  no  more  about  it,  Mr.  Seymour ;  I  don't  want 
you  to  think  me  affected." 


A   LITTLE   DINNER    AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     Ill 

Here  Mr.  Hawke  began  to  speak  about  the  dog 
in  a  loud  voice. 

"  The  peculiarity,  Mrs.  Seymour,  of  the  old 
animal  was — aw — was  its  capacity  of  fondness. 
Some  years  ago  it  brought  a  cat  out  of  the 
water  where  the  thing  was — aw — was  drowning. 
Florence  nursed  the  cat  and  made  it  well,  and  the 
dawg  grew  so  attached  to  the  cat  and  the  cat  to 
the  dawg  that  they  would — aw — I  assure  you,  take 
walks  together.  The  cat  was  ultimately  lost ;  I 
believe — aw — it  strayed.  Flora  greatly  missed  it, 
and  until  age  rendered  her  imbecile  she  could 
never  hear  the  noise  which  cats  are  in  the  habit  of 
making  at  night  without  considerable  agitation,  a 
circumstance  that  people  who — aw — study  dawgs 
might  think  affecting." 

Considering  that  I  wanted  to  preserve  a  solemn 
face,  that  Miss  Hawke  might  believe  my  sympathy 
with  her  loss  sincere — which  it  certainly  was — I 
say  that  the  old  fellow's  story,  or  rather  the 
manner  and  tone  in  which  he  delivered  it,  was  as 
severe  a  trial  as  ever  befel  me.  However,  it  did 
not  take  me  long  to  recover;  the  having  Miss 
Hawke  alongside  of  me  soon  rendered  me  des- 
perately serious  and  sentimental.  I  knew  old 
Hawke  was  looking ;  I  had  not  the  least  doubt  he 
was  extremely  annoyed  that  his  daughter  should  be 
sitting  next  a  young  fellow  whose  admiration  for 
his  lovely  companion  he  could  not  and  would  not 


112  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

disguise ;  but  I  did  not  care  a  brass  farthing  for  his 
thoughts.  It  was  a  magnificent  pleasure  for  me, 
an  immense  delight,  to  be  in  her  company  again 
after  the  separation  of  a  week,  during  which  I  had 
hung  about  like  a  turnpike  tramp  in  the  hope  of 
catching  sight  of  her.  Besides,  could  I  doubt  that 
she  was  pleased  with  me  as  a  companion?  She 
could  not  help  talking  of  Flora,  and  heartily  did  I 
bless  the  ghost  of  the  dead  brute  as  a  bond  of 
sympathy  between  its  adorable  mistress  and  me ; 
and  Flora  led  her  to  speak  of  Australia,  and 
Australia  set  me  gabbling  about  my  sea  experiences, 
and  I  told  her  one  or  two  thrilling  tales  of  salt 
water — of  a  ship  on  fire,  of  a  black  man  overboard 
in  the  Doldrums  fighting  with  a  shark,  and  such 
things — and  either  related  them  so  well,  or  she  was 
so  anxious  to  be  interested,  that  we  seemed  to  forget 
that  the  footmen  were  waiting  to  remove  our  plates, 
that  there  were  others  beside  ourselves  at  table,  and 
that  old  Hawke  was  watching  us  from  behind  the 
silver  candlesticks  (though  of  course  we  were  not 
supposed  to  notice  anything  of  that  kind),  until  on 
looking  up  once  I  caught  Miss  Emily  staring  at  us, 
and  then  glance  at  her  papa,  a  circumstance  that 
made  me  cautious  for  about  one  minute  and  a 
half,  after  which  I  was  deep  in  stories,  questions, 
conversation  again. 

You  will  suppose  from  this  that  I  did  not  lack 
encouragement.     In  many  things  I  was  a  conceited 


A  LITTLE  DINNER  AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     113 

young  fellow  in  those  days.  I  believe  I  was 
tolerably  good-looking ;  I  considered  that  I  was  not 
destitute  of  intellect ;  there  was  not  a  man  living, 
on  or  off  the  stage,  whom  I  should  have  been  afraid 
to  challenge  to  a  dancing  match,  from  a  waltz  to  a 
hornpipe ;  1  reckoned  in  such  songs  as  "  Tom 
Bowling,"  "  The  Anchor's  Weighed,"  and  "Hocked 
in  the  Cradle  of  the  Deep,"  I  could  deliver  as  honest 
a  note  as  ever  a  sailor's  lungs  could  find  wind  for 
(though  I  never  would  sing  before  ladies) ;  but  I  was 
not  such  a  fop  as  not  to  have  been  able  to  tell  in 
a  moment  whether  my  company  was  unwelcome  to 
Miss  Florence,  nor  such  a  blunderhead  as  not  to 
have  straightway  hauled  off  from  her  under  a  press 
of  canvas  had  such  a  discovery  been  made  by  me. 
If  lively  interest  in  my  talk,  if  comparative  neglect 
of  the  rest  of  the  company,  if  real  earnestness  in 
her  manner  when  earnestness  was  most  acceptable 
to  me,  if  an  occasional  sideways  peep  at  me  as  if 
the  view  was  rather  to  her  taste — if  such  things  in 
a  girl  may  be  accepted  as  encouraging  symptoms 
by  the  young  fellow  she  is  alongside  of,  then  I  am 
strictly  within  the  truth  when  I  say  that  all  this 
and  a  good  deal  more,  much  too  nice  and  subtle 
for  the  pen  to  determine,  composed  Miss  Hawke's 
bearing,  manners,  behaviour,  speech  to  me  that 
evening  at  her  papa's  dining-table.  And  shall  I 
omit  reference  to  the  unspeakable  relish  afforded 
this  delightful  communion  by  the  reflection  that 

VOL.  I.  I 


114  jack's  courtship. 

young  Morecombe  was  abed  upstairs  with  a  sprained 
ankle — an  ankle,  I  say,  sprained,  to  put  the 
fact  squarely,  by  tumbling  over  Miss  Hawke's 
sensibilities. 

"A  fig  for  old  Hawke  !  "  I  cried  to  myself;  and 
as  the  old  gentleman's  excellent  dry  champagne 
mingled  with  my  blood  and  coursed  through  my 
youthful  veins,  I  grew  more  and  more  indifferent 
to  the  looks  of  astonishment  and  annoyance  I  would 
catch  him  throwing  at  us,  and  more  and  more 
ardent  in  my  behaviour  to  Miss  Hawke  ;  so  that  I 
may  plainly  assert  that  if  I  had  come  to  that  table 
up  to  my  neck  in  love,  I  had  floundered  clean  out 
of  soundings  long  before  the  ladies  withdrew. 

Well,  when  they  rose  at  last  I  nearly  pitched 
over  my  chair  to  hold  open  the  door  ;  but  not  for  a 
small  fortune  would  I  have  missed  doing  that  same, 
for  as  Miss  Hawke  passed  she  just  raised  her  eyes 
to  mine  with  a  little  smile;  it  was  the  briefest 
glance  in  the  world,  yet  had  it  been  a  prolonged 
gaze  I  could  not  have  found  more  meaning  in  it. 
My  heart  fell  to  beating  as  if  I  had  received  a 
fright ;  and  I  stood  holding  on  to  the  door-handle 
some  moments  after  the  last  of  the  ladies  had 
passed  out,  rendered  as  I  may  suppose  temporarily 
incapable  of  employing  my  intelligence  by  the 
transport  of  wonder  and  passion  those  sweet  eyes 
had  kindled  in  me. 
I  returned  to  the  table,  and  observed  my  uncle 


A   LITTLE   DINNER   AT   CLIFTON   LODCfE.      115 

casting  glances  around  as  if  in  search  of  something 
to  smoke.  Old  Hawke  sat  cold  and  hard  in  his 
place  ;  there  was  no  invitation  for  me  to  draw  my 
chair  close;  he  mechanically  pointed  to  the  de- 
canters and  named  their  contents  with  an  expression 
of  face  as  if  he  wished  us  all  at  the  devil. 

'•'You're  not  a  smoker,  I  believe,  Mr.  Hawke  ?  " 
said  my  uncle. 

••  No,  I  am  not,"  he  replied,  "but  I  know  you 
are ;  "  and  he  called  to  one  of  his  men  to  put  a  box 
of  cigars  on  the  table.  My  uncle  and  I  fired  up, 
as  why  should  we  not,  since  the  cigars  were  there 
to  be  smoked  ?  and  1  do  not  know  that  I  enjoyed 
Mr.  Hawke's  capital  tobacco  the  less  because  I 
noticed  that  he  studiously  avoided  addressing  me 
or  even  looking  at  me. 

After  we  had  been  sitting  in  this  manner  about 
ten  minutes,  Mr.  Hawke  begged  my  uncle's  pardon 
for  leaving  him  for  a  few  moments  :  he  was  anxious 
to  see  how  Mr.  Morecombe  did ;  he  should  be  sorry 
that  his  friend  Sir  Reginald  Morecombe's  son 
should  feel  himself  neglected. 

"  Not  very  polite,  Jack,  to  leave  us,  even  for  Sir 
Eeginald  Morecombe's  son,"  said  my  uncle  when 
Mr.  Hawke  was  gone;  "but  squatting  is  a  calling 
for  which  one  must  make  large  allowances.  Have 
you  enjoyed  your  dinner  ?  " 

'•  Veiy  much,"  I  replied. 

(t  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  says  he  gravely ;  u  and 


116  JACKS   COURTSHIP. 

whilst  it  lasts,  ray  lad,  I  should  go  on  enjo}*ing  it  up 
to  the  hilt ;  for  I  calculate  it'll  be  the  only  blow-out 
— I  don't  say  the  only  blow-up — you'll  get  at 
Clifton  Lodge." 

"  I  am  afraid  that's  pretty  plain,"  said  I. 

"  You  can't  blame  Hawke,"  continued  my  uncle. 
"  Why,  confound  you  !  you  and  Florence  have  been 
as  thick  as  thieves  this  evening ;  never  saw  such  a 
hobnobbing  in  my  life.  Have  you  made  her  in  love 
with  you  ?  You  turned  the  old  man  into  stone ;  he 
was  like  a  statue,  and  could  do  nothing  but  look. 
If  he  don't  cut  me  and  your  aunt  for  this  at  once, 
he'll  drop  us  presently.     You  bet." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  I. 

"  You  bet.  But  d'ye  think  I  shall  go  into 
mourning  ?  We'll  invite  him  to  dinner  by  way  of 
revenge  next  week,  and  if  he  accepts  I  give  you 
leave  to  shave  my  head.  And,  man !  wasn't  your 
getting  Miss  Hawke  to  take  into  dinner  neatly 
managed  ?  How  was  I  to  know  which  Miss  Hawke 
he  meant  ?  "  and  he  laughed  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"Aren't  you  sorry  Mr.  Morecombe  has  sprained 
his  ankle  ?  "  said  I. 

"Very,"  he  replied.  "If  I'd  foreseen  this  dis- 
aster I'd  have  brought  a  few  pockethandkerchiefs 
with  me." 

"  Fancy  squeezing  the  life  out  of  the  dog  !  How 
happy  he  must  feel  as  he  lies  forking  his  leg  up 
and  cursing  at  it ! "  said  I,  turning  over  the  fancy 


A  LITTLE  DINNER  AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     117 

and  relishing  it  and  garnishing  it  with  my  imagi- 
nation. 

"  Jack,"  exclaimed  my  uncle,  looking  at  me  with 
one  eye  half  closed,  "d'ye  know,  if  you  have  a 
mind  to  win  the  girl,  I'm  disposed  to  stake  a  sum 
of  money  on  your  chances.  Mind,  I  don't  believe 
you'd  ever  get  her  dad's  consent.  You'd  have  to 
bolt  with  her ;  it  would  have  to  be  the  old  rope- 
ladder  business,  the  midnight  chaise  or  express,  his 
worship  the  registrar  early  in  the  morning,  the 
regular  Losa  Matilda  and  Anna  Maria  kind  of 
thing,  against  all  which  I  solemnly  caution  you. 
But  what  I'd  be  willing  to  wager  on  is,  that  with 
a  few  more  opportunities  you'll  bring  Miss  Florence 
to  listen — ay,  and  to  like  it — whilst  you  pour  your 
cheap  poetry  into  her  ears.  And  I  hope,  young 
man,"  said  he,  deepening  his  voice  and  opening 
his  half-closed  eye,  and  speaking  very  earnestly 
indeed,  "that  unless  you  are  absolutely  sincere  in 
your  feelings  you'll  sheer  off  from  her  before  you 
begin  to  make  her  think  of  you." 

"  My  dear  uncle "  I  began. 

"Hear  me  out!"  cried  he.  "She  is  a  sweet 
woman,  and  I  must  have  her  approached  with 
immense  honesty.  I'll  allow  no  flirting.  You 
must  not  drop  the  game  by-and-by  to  consider 
whether  it  is  worth  the  candle.  Oh,  yes  !  I  can 
see  what's  in  your  mind.  Your  admiration  for  her 
Jills  you  with  astonishment  at  my  language.     But 


118  JACK;S   COURTSHIP. 

you  are  twenty-five,  and  at  twenty -five  the  human 
character  is  like  sand,  and  the  loveliest  fabric  of 
sentiment  that  can  be  constructed  upon  it,  cemented 
by  dreams,  decorated  with  the  sparkling  gems  of 
imagination,  and  radiant  with  the  light  that 
Wordsworth  speaks  of  in  his  noble  ode,  may  settle 
and  sink  out  of  sight  in  a  few  hours  like  an  old 
collier  on  the  Goodwin  Sands." 

"  My  dear  uncle "  I  began  once  more. 

"There  must  be  no  tomfoolery,"  he  continued. 
"  Not,"  giving  me  a  bow,  "  that  I  doubt  you.  No, 
sir ;  you  are  my  brother  Tom's  son ;  you  have 
been  a  sailor,  and  I  know  how  to  value  those  two 
things.  But  do  not  go,  I  say,  and  make  love  to- 
Forence  Hawke,  and  get  her  to  fall  in  love  with 
you ;  do  not  go  and  shove  yourself  in  the  way  of 
her  papa's  wishes,  and  deprive  her  of  a  man  who, 
ass  as  I  think  him,  might,  for  all  that  you  can  tell, 
turn  out  a  very  tolerable  husband,  unless  you  are 
as  certain  that  you  can  count  upon  your  impas- 
sioned sincerity  and  devotion  for  the  rest  of  your 
natural  life,  as  surely  as  I  can  count  at  this 
moment  upon  finding  gold  in  my  pocket  by  feeling 
for  it." 

This  was  rather  staggering  talk  to  me.  What 
did  he  mean  ?  That  I  wasn't  a  man  of  honour  ? 
That  I  was  a  cockney  flirt  down  at  Bristol  for  a 
holiday,  trying  to  make  a  fool  of  the  girl  I  had 
fallen  in  love  with  and  literallv  adored  ?     I  was 


A   LITTLE   DINNER  AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.     119 

turning    over   an   answer  in  my   mind  when  he 
started  off  afresh. 

"I  should  speak  to  you  in  the  same  fashion  if 
you  had  fallen  in  love  with  one  of  your  cousins. 
You  are  without  a  father,  Jack,  and  as  an  uncle  I 
have  a  right  to  talk  to  you.  There's  nothing  in  life 
that  disgusts  and  angers  me  more  than  a  male 
flirt :  a  creature  who  pretends  to  fall  in  love, 
makes  a  girl  fond  of  him,  and  then  drops  her. 
There's  no  halter  long  enough  for  such  malignant 
baboons.  A  woman  is  always  an  object  to  be 
reverenced.  She  has  emotions  we  men  could  not 
fathom — no,  not  if  all  the  deep-sea  lead-lines  in 
the  world  were  spliced  together  to  sound  her  with. 
Her  love  is  not  like  ours,  a  thing  apart :  you  know 
the  noble  lines  written  by  a  scamp  ?  When  it  is  a 
woman's  heart  that  is  to  be  approached,  my  cry  is, 
1  Hats  off  and  hands  off !  Show  your  respect,  for 
you  are  on  holy  ground.  And  prove  your  honesty, 
as  the  Scotchman  does  before  paying  money,  by 
pausing  to  tak'  a  thocht.' " 

"  Do  you  imagine  I  am  flirting  with  Miss  Hawke?" 
cried  I. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  believe  you  are  head  over  ears  in 
love  with  her.  Keep  so  to  the  end;  keep  head 
over  ears  though  the  end  be  fixed  when  the  blast 
announcing  the  crack  o'  doom  shall  be  heard. 
Don't  go  and  scramble  out  after  you  have  hauled 
her  in.     Jack,  don't  you  know,  you  miserable  sailor 


120  jack's  courtship. 

man  you  !  that  love  is  too  often  mere  electroplate 
with  men?  Wear  brings  the  silver  off.  With 
women  it  is  all  pure  metal  right  through.  Re- 
member that ;  and  in  hauling  away  at  your  heart 
in  order  to  get  it  out  of  its  moorings  and  offer  it  to 
this  girl,  see  that  there  is  nothing  of  Birmingham 
and  Sheffield  in  the  gift ;  d'ye  take  me  ?  For  if  it 
is  only  coating  that  makes  it  look  bright  and  mass}', 
keep  it  where"  it  is,  otherwise  yell  be  committing 
felony,  cheating  as  badly  as  any  rascally  tradesman 
who  palms  off  pinchbeck  for  gold.     Hush  !  " 

The  door  opened  and  Mr.  Hawke  stalked  in. 
My  uncle  immediately  inquired  after  Mr.  More- 
combe,  but  I  took  no  heed  of  the  old  gentleman's 
replies.  In  truth  I  felt  half  stunned  by  the  broad- 
side that  had  been  poured  into  me.  And  yet  it 
was  full  of  flattery  too  :  it  was  like  telling  me  that 
I  could  win  the  girl  if  I  chose,  but  that  I  was  not 
to  attempt  to  do  so  without  first  feeling  sure  that 
I  was  sincere  in  my  desire  to  win  her.  My  half- 
smoked  cigar  hung  idly  and  extinguished  between 
my  fingers  whilst  I  looked  foolishly  from  Mr.  Hawke 
to  my  uncle,  pretending  that  I  was  interested  in 
their  talk,  though  I  did  not  attend  to  a  single  word 
that  was  said.  Presently  our  host,  addressing  me 
abruptly,  but  speaking  with  his  dreadful  formality 
and  pomp  of  delivery,  exclaimed,  "  Will  you  finish 
your  cigar,  Mr.  Seymour,  or  have  you — aw — had 
enough  ?     The  ladies,  I  fear,  will  be  wondering  at 


A   LITTLE   DINNEB   AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.     121 

— EEV — our  absence  ? "  On  this  I  stood  up  and 
followed  them  to  the  drawing-room. 

The  ladies  formed  a  group  at  one  end  of  the 
room,  though  Miss  Hawke  sat  a  little  apart 
listening  to  the  others.  I  went  up  to  her  at  once, 
not  in  the  least  caring  how  Mr.  Hawke  might  relish 
this  renewal  of  my  attention  to  his  daughter ;  for 
1  was  now  rendered  utterly  defiant,  not  only  by 
being  deeply  in  love,  but  by  the  perception  that 
Mr.  Hawke  was  never  likely  to  again  ask  me  to 
his  house,  and  that  therefore  it  would  not  signify 
an  atom  whether  I  dissembled  or  not.  I  asked  if 
she  had  heard  how  Mr.  Morecombe  was ;  she  said 
no.  I  told  her  that  her  father  had  been  upstairs 
to  see  him,  and  added :  "He  is  a  very  lucky 
young  gentleman  to  be  so  highly  esteemed  by 
your  father.''  She  smiled,  but  made  no  observa- 
tion. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  I,  taking  a  squint  at  the 
<>ld  fellow,  who  was  talking  to  my  aunt,  "  I  should 
never  be  able  to  reach  up  to  Mr.  Morecombe's 
moral  stature  in  Mr.  Hawke's  opinion.  Is  it 
because  my  head  is  not  so  well  shaped  as  his,  or 
because  I  have  not  his  honesty?"  She  watched 
me  with  a  partly-amused,  partly-questioning  ex- 
pression. "  But  neither  brains  nor  characters,  I 
am  afraid,  are  of  much  use  in  these  days.  Tell 
me  what  is  most  liked,  Miss  Hawke  ?  what  is  the 
most  successful  ?  what  do  you  value  most  ?" 


122  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

"  Perfect  sincerity,  Mr.  Seymour:  the  very  rarest 
thing  in  the  world,"  she  answered. 

I  was  struck  by  this  reply,  that  patly  followed 
what  my  uncle  had  said.  One  might  have  sworn 
she  had  overheard  him. 

"When  Mr.  Hawke  was  upstairs,"  said  I, 
sinking  my  yoice,  which  forced  her  to  incline  her 
head  to  listen,  and  this  was  her  posture  when  her 
father  turned  to  look  at  her,  "  my  uncle  read  me  a 
most  emphatic  lecture  on  sincerity.  He  is  a 
sagacious  man,  careless  perhaps  of  the  world's 
opinion,  but  with  large  and  correct  views  of  life. 
He  said  that  a  man's  love  was  like  a  plated  teapot : 
the  silver  came  off  through  wear ;  but  a  woman's 
love,  says  he,  is  genuine  metal  all  through." 

"  Though  it  might  not  be  silver,  and,  therefore," 
says  she,  laughing  quietly,  "not  worth  so  much 
as  the  plated  teapot."  And  then,  looking  at  me 
earnestly,  "  Pray,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  had  Mr. 
Seymour's  teapot  got  to  do  with  his  lecture  to  you 
on  sincerity  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  simile — an  image  ;  on  the  whole  clever, 
I  thought,"  I  replied. 

"  What  caused  him  to  lecture  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  must  not  tell,"  I  said.  "Yes,  I  will,  though; 
but  not  to  you  direct.  It  shall  come  to  you  through 
Sophie." 

At  this  point  there  was  a  bustle.  Mr.  Hawke 
asked  Amelia  to  sing,  and  she  went  to  the  piano, 


A   LITTLE   DIXXEE   AT   CLIFTOX   LODC4E.       123 

followed  by  the  old  gentleman,  who  stood  up  still 
alongside  of  her,  like  a  parish-constable  at  a 
meeting.  Had  Amelia  been  Pasta,  or  Patti,  or 
Tietjens,  I  must  have  gone  on  talking.  She  warbled 
and  I  mumbled.  Old  Hawke  faced  round  as  much 
as  to  say,  "  Good  God !  will  nothing  silence  that 
villain's  tongue  ?  "  but  I  took  no  notice. 

"  I  fear,"  said  I,  "that  this  will  be  the  last  time 
I  shall  ever  have  the  pleasure  of  sitting  in  this 
room  with  you." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  she  exclaimed  with 
a  quickness  of  manner  that  afforded  me  pure 
delight.     "  Are  you  leaving  Clifton  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I.  "I  mean  that  I  shall  never  be 
asked  here  again." 

The  sweet  girl  tried  to  look  astonished,  but  it 
would  not  do ;  she  knew  the  truth,  and  yet  my 
whipping  out  with  it  in  this  fashion  filled  her  with 
wonder  and  amusement.  Meanwhile  Amelia  piped 
at  the  piano  : — 

Oh,  fond  nightingale,  hee-utiful  nightingale. 
Filling  with  music  the  moonlighted 

Boom  !  went  the  bass,  and  the  word  was  lost. 

"  Speak  quite  frankly,  Mr.  Seymour;  I  really  do 
not  understand  you,"  said  Miss  Florence. 

"  Yes,  you  do,  you  darling,"  thought  I ;  "  but 
you  want  me  to  plain,  and  I'll  be  so."  "  The  case 
is  this,"  said  I.  "I  have  been  told — the  news  is 
not  nice — that  Mr.  Hawke  is  anxious  to  possess  the 


124  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

young  gentleman  who  accidentally  (no  doubt)  killed 
our  poor  dear  Flora,  as  a  son-in-law."  She  coloured 
up,  but  I  was  not  to  be  stopped.  "  Your  father  is 
a  keen-sighted  man,  capable  of  reading  the  mind. 
He  has  peered  into  mine,  and  witnessed  there  an 
admiration  for  you  which  he  is  not  going  to  tolerate 
in  a  young  fellow  who  is  a  plain  mister,  without 
fortune,  and  who  was  bred  to  the  rough  and 
savage  calling  of  the  sea.  Hence  my  fears  per- 
suade me  this  is  my  last  visit  here." 

That  I  should  have  ventured  so  much  but  for 
Mr,  Hawke's  champagne,  which  gave  fluency  to 
my  tongue  and  such  an  irrepressible  ardency  to 
my  thoughts  as  relieved  me  of  all  considerations  of 
taste,  good  or  bad,  I  will  not  say ;  but,  having 
made  the  speech,  I  was  glad.  It  was  not  indeed  a 
declaration  of  love,  but  it  came  near  enough  to  it 
to  make  my  meaning  clear  to  the  gentle  heart 
for  whose  instruction  it  was  designed.  But  she 
would  let  me  say  no  more ;  she  endeavoured  to 
conceal  the  warm  blush  on  her  cheeks  by  cleverly 
manoeuvring  her  fan ;  but  what  she  concealed  from 
the  others  she  left  visible  to  me,  which  I  dare  say 
she  found  insupportable,  for  she  left  her  chair  and 
went  to  an  open  window  under  pretence  of  drawing 
the  curtains,  and  there  she  stood  alone  until  Amelia 
had  done  her  song,  after  which  she  joined  my  aunt, 
having  by  that  time  regained  her  composure  and 
natural  complexion.      Yet  let   me  say  here   that 


A  LITTLE  DINNEB   AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.       125 

there  was  nothing  in  her  manner  of  leaving  me 
that  indicated  the  least  displeasure.  Her  quitting 
her  chair  seemed  to  me  no  more  than  one  of  those 
devices  into  which  a  maiden  will  be  driven  by  stress 
of  blushing.     I  could  not  mistake. 

I  went  over  to  Sophie  and  Miss  Eniily  Hawke, 
wanting  to  see  what  sort  of  a  girl  this  latter  was. 
1  thought  she  seemed  a  bit  frightened  when  I  sat 
down  near  her.  She  stared  at  me  hard  when  I 
spoke,  but  presently  a  not  unpleasant  manner 
came  to  my  help,  and  perhaps  her  own.  I  was, 
indeed,  anxious  that  she  should  not  dislike  me, 
whatever  opinions  her  father  might  hold.  I 
expressed  the  sorrow  with  which  I  had  heard  of 
her  delicate  health,  and  spoke  with  plenty  of  heart 
in  my  meaning  too,  for  no  man  could  have  looked 
into  that  young  girl's  wan  face,  and  noticed  her 
thin  wrists  and  fingers  and  the  expression  of 
suffering  in  her  eyes,  without  compassion.  Then  I 
talked  to  her  about  the  lamented  Flora,  and 
London,  and  kindled  a  light  upon  her  face  by 
praising  Sydney  and  bragging  about  Australia,  as 
though  the  world  began  at  Cape  Leeuwin  and 
ended  at  Cape  York,  until,  what  with  my  stories 
and  attempts  at  jokes,  and  the  easy  and  plain,  if 
not  free,  manner  that  will  come  to  a  sailor  as  a 
part  of  his  sea-training,  I  rendered  her  as  amiable 
as  I  could  desire.  This  was  the  only  part  of  my 
conduct   that  night  that   made  Mr.  Hawke  seem 


126  jack's  courtship. 

willing  to  unbend  his  gloomy  wooden  face  when  he 
turned  it  my  way.  If  there  was  a  soft  corner  in 
him  I  suppose  that  invalid  bairn  filled  it ;  and  I 
think  he  was  as  much  pleased  that  I  should  be 
amusing  the  poor  delicate  creature  as  that  I  was 
no  longer  conversing  in  a  low  voice  with  Miss 
Florence  with  my  nose  at  her  ear. 

Yet  the  effort  to  produce  a  pleasing  impression  on 
Miss  Emily  was  a  mighty  hard  one.  She  was  not 
overburdened  with  intellect.  I  have  elsewhere  said 
that  she  had  her  papa's  face ;  I  could  not  but  feel 
that  she  was  her  papa's  child,  and  would  perish  in 
support  of  his  opinions  and  wishes  :  and  so  I  was 
like  a  needle  trying  my  hardest  to  turn  north  and 
having  to  contend  with  the  flow  of  a  steady  depola- 
rising influence.  All  the  time  I  was  hoping  that 
Miss  Florence  would  be  courted  by  our  lively  voices 
and  join  us  ;  it  was  this  expectation  that  supported 
me :  and  when  I  found  that  she  would  not  come,  I 
gave  up  and  sat  without  talking,  looking  moodily  at 
her,  and,  as  is  the  custom  of  young  lovers,  turning 
over  all  I  had  spoken,  regretting  the  omission  of 
this,  deploring  the  utterance  of  that,  wondering 
what  would  have  been  the  effect  had  I  said  the 
other,  dwelling  upon  her  assertion  that  nothing 
pleased  her  so  much  as  sincerity,  coupling  it  with 
my  uncle's  lecture  at  the  dinner-table,  wondering  if 
there  was  anything  suspicious  in  my  manner  that 
they  should  both  address  me  on  the  same  subject, 


A   LITTLE  DINNER   AT   CLIFTON   LODGE.       127 

and  how  long  it  would  take  young  ATorecoinbe's 
sprained  ankle  to  get  well. 

The  evening  was  brought  to  a  close  by  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  arrival  of  my  uncle's  carriage. 
When  it  came  to  my  turn  to  say  good-night  to  Miss 
Florence,  I  could  not  help  fancying  from  the  look 
in  her  eyes  that,  had  not  the  others  stood  around, 
she  would  have  said  something  more  to  me  than 
farewell.  I  might  have  been  mistaken  ;  but  be  that 
as  it  will,  1  could  not  let  go  her  hand  without  giving 
it  a  tender  squeeze :  and  though  I  admit  that  it 
was  not  returned,  I  can  tell  you  this,  mates,  the 
darling  girl  did  not  haul  her  fingers  away  from  me 
as  if  she  had  been  burnt.  But  there  was  nothing 
to  whisper,  nothing  even  to  be  looked,  with  old 
Hawke  like  a  policeman  looming  close  alongside. 
He  gave  me  a  finger-nail  to  shake,  bowed  ponder- 
ously over  his  waistcoat,  but  expressed  no  pleasure 
at  all  at  having  made  my  acquaintance,  nor  hinted 
the  least  desire  to  have  the  honour  of  seeing  me 
again. 

Not  very  much  was  said  as  we  drove  home :  the 
wheels  made  too  much  noise  for  comfortable  talking, 
nor  can  it  be  said  that  our  postures  were  of  the 
easiest,  I,  as  before,  being  squeezed  between  my 
cousins,  which  forced  me  to  give  my  uncle  and  aunt 
opposite  the  benefit  of  my  knees ;  so  that  all  I  can 
remember  my  uncle  saying  was,  "Damme,  Jack! 
you   seem   all   legs   to-night ! "   on  which    Sophie 


128  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

panted  into  my  ear,  "  Papa  should  say  all  heart ! " 
But  the  drive  only  occupied  a  few  minutes,  and 
presently  we  were  in  the  dining-room  at  home,  grog 
on  the  table,  my  uncle  in  slippers,  and  my  aunt 
and  cousins  lingering  for  a  chat  before  going  to  bed. 
Of  course  our  talk  was  of  the  dinner,  and  if  we  were 
not  so  kind  in  our  remarks  about  our  host  as  people 
usually  are  of  the  friends  that  entertain  them,  let  it 
be  remembered  that  my  uncle  thought  old  Hawke  a 
prig,  and  that  my  cousins  objected  to  his  ideas  on 
marriage. 

"  Do  you  really  think  Mr.  Morecombe  sprained 
his  ankle  ?  "  asked  Sophie  generally. 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  replied  my  aunt.  "  Why 
should  he  sham?" 

"Yes,"  says  Sophie;  "but  having  killed  poor 
Flora  by  treading  on  her,  he  might  think  the  best 
way  to  prove  the  thing  was  accidental  was  by 
pretending  he  had  hurt  himself." 

"  You  should  suggest  that  to  Miss  Hawke,"  said 
I.  "  Shamming  or  not,  I  wish  he  had  dined  with 
us ;  I  should  like  to  have  seen  him  and  heard  him 
talk." 

"  A  foolish  wish,  Jack  !  "  cried  my  uncle.  "  Had 
he  been  present  what  chance  of  flirting  would  you 
have  had  ?  " 

"Don't  call  it  flirting"  said  I  warmly. 

"  Eh  !  "  cried  he,  turning  to  his  wife,  "  you  should 
have  heard  me  lecture  Jack  this  evening  !     "Whilst 


A   LITTLE   DINNER  AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.       129 

Mr.   Hawke   was    upstairs    balsarning  his    young 

friend's  aristocratic  tendons,  I "  and  he  repeated 

pretty  nearly  all  he  had  before  let  fly  at  me. 

"Sophie,"  said  I,  when  he  was  done,  "please 
take  a  note  of  this,  will  you  ?  I  promised  Miss 
Hawke  that  she  should  know  through  you  what  my 
uncle  said." 

"  I  am  sure  Jack  doesn't  stand  in  need  of  such 
advice,"  exclaimed  Sophie.  "What  tan  you  think 
of  him,  papa,  to  talk  about  silver-plated  hearts  and 
stuff  of  that  kind  ?  " 

"Stuff  d'ye  call  it?"  cried  my  uncle  ;  "why  it 
was  first-class  imagery.  If  Jack  means  to  make 
love  to  Florence,  I  want  him  to  be  in  earnest.  She 
knows  him  through  me  ;  I  respect,  admire,  and  am 
very  fond  of  her,  and  I  don't  want  any  tomfoolery." 

H  There's  no  tomfoolery  here,"  said  I.  "  And 
yet — really — this  talk  of  my  making  love — these 
references  to  my  being  in  earnest — are  rather — 

well,  let  me  say "  and  not  knowing  what  to  say 

I   stopped,   blushed,   coughed,    and,    catching  my 
uncle's  eye,  laughed. 

"  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  is  a  pity,"  said  my 
aunt,  fanning  herself  and  looking  somewhat 
anxiously  from  one  to  the  other  of  us  as  she  spoke, 
"  that  we  should  be  in  any  way,  even  indirectly,  the 
means  of  interfering,  as  it  might  seem,  between 
Mr.  Hawke  and  his  domestic  views.  I  mean  that 
it  would  not  matter  one  jot,  and,  indeed,  no  one 

VOL.  I.  K 


130  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

would  be  gladder  than  I,  if  Mr.  Jack  should  be  the 
instrument  of  putting  young  Mr.  Morecombe  down, 
and  of  saving  Florence  from  what  I  have  often  said 
I  fear  will  be  an  unhappy  future.  For  no  woman 
can  live  happily  with  a  fool.  But  it  would  have 
been  better,  I  think,  if  Mr.  Jack  could  have  acted 
independently  of  us — if  he  could  have  fallen  in  love 
with  Miss  Hawke  and  paid  her  attention — as  he  did 
to-night,  and  how  annoyed  Mr.  Hawke  looked ! — 
without  our  having,  as  it  might  be,  anything  to  do 
with  it." 

"Well,  and  what  hare  we  to  do  with  it?"  ex- 
claimed my  uncle.  "  We're  only  responsible  for 
his  introduction.  We  can't  help  his  falling  in 
love." 

"No,  I  quite  see  that,"  responded  my  aunt 
thoughtfully;  "but  still  I  am  afraid  that  Mr. 
Hawke  is  annoyed." 

"  With  us,  do  you  mean,  Sophia  ? "  cried  my 
uncle. 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  was.     He  was  cool,  I  thought." 

"And  what  then?" 

"Well,"  said  she,  " you  see  we're  neighbours." 

"  And  what  then  ?  " 

"Well,  I  should  not  like  him  to  think  that — I 
mean,  it  would  seem  unfriendly  on  our  part  to  act 
as  if  it  gave  us  pleasure  to  thwart  his  wishes." 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  my  uncle.  "  What  are  we 
supposed  to  know  about  his  wishes  ?    Why,  con- 


A  LITTLE   DINNER  AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.       131 

found  him,  I'm  an  honester  man  to  his  child  than 
he  is.  Here  I  see  my  nephew  admiring  her,  hang- 
ing about  her,  and  behaving  as  a  young  fellow 
would  who  wants  to  get  a  girl  to  love  him;  and 
thereupon  I  give  him  a  lecture  upon  the  subject 
of  women's  feelings  worth  its  weight  in  gold,  and 
dismiss  him  with  this  injunction  :  Be  honest,  be 
sincere,  or  sheer  off!  But  how  does  the  father 
act?  He  meets  an  old  man  called  Sir  Eeginald 
Morecombe  ;  he  brings  this  old  man's  son  to  his 
house,  and  in  a  manner  forces  him  upon  his 
daughter,  not  because  he  values  her  happiness,  not 
because  she  is  a  restless  creature  who  had  better 
marry  a  sucking  baronet  than  her  papa's  coachman, 
but  because  he  is  eaten  up  by  the  parvenu's  ambi- 
tion of  improving  his  social  position  by  importing 
blood  into  his  family." 

"  I  agree  with  every  word  you  say,  Charles,"  ex- 
claimed my  aunt;  "but,"  added  she  inconse- 
quentially, "  I  know  it  will  end  in  Mr.  Hawke 
cutting  us." 

"  The  sun  will  still  shine,  mamma,"  said  Sophie. 

"And  the  flowers  grow,"  said  Amelia. 

"  Well,  if  nobody  will  understand  me,"  cried  my 
aunt,  "there  is  no  use  in  my  going  on  talking." 

"  /understand  you,"  said  I,  who  had  listened  to 
this  conversation  with  very  mingled  emotions,  as 
any  man  may  suppose.  "  You  consider  that  I  am 
not  acting  a  proper  part  in  doing  anything  likely  to 


132  JACK'S  courtship. 

disturb  the  friendly  feelings  which  exist  between 
your  family  and  the  Hawkes  ?" 

"  Twaddle  !  "  rumbled  my  uncle  in  his  gizzard. 

"You  consider,  perhaps,"  I  continued,  "that  I 
did  not  behave  very  decorously  in  so  bearing  myself 
this  evening  towards  Miss  Hawke  as  to  vex  her 
father,  and  make  him  seem  cool  towards  you  for 
introducing  me.'' 

"  Bosh  !  "  growled  my  uncle. 

"  Well,"  continued  I,  not  noticing  my  uncle's 
interruptions,  "if  this  is  what  you  think,  I  must 
admit  that  you  are  right.  But  what  was  I  to  do  ? 
Miss  Hawke  invited  me  to  her  papa's  house,  and  I 
went.  I  took  her  in  to  dinner  and  sat  next  to  her  : 
how  was  I  to  behave  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Jack !  "  shouted  my  uncle,  "  enough 
of  this.  Take  a  cigar,  man  ;  take  a  cigar.  Sophia, 
next  week  we  return  this  dinner,  d'ye  hear  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Hawke  will  not  accept,"  said  my  aunt. 

"We'll  risk  it,"  exclaimed  my  uncle.  "But 
understand — if  he  don't  accept,  I  shall  put  his 
refusal  down,  not  to  Jack  yonder,  but  to  my  wide- 
awake and  boots.  I  shall  consider  that  we're  not 
good  enough  for  him." 

My  aunt  and  Amelia  drew  themselves  up  at  this. 
"  I'm  sorry  your  nephew  should  hear  that,  at  all 
events,"  said  the  former.  "  Not  good  enough  for 
Mr.  Hawke  ?    Bee-ally,  Charles  !  " 

My  uncle  seemed  to  find  this  stroke  of  indignation 


A  LITTLE   DINNER  AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.       133 

exquisite,  for  he  laughed  until  the  tears  rolled  down 
his  cheeks;  and  indeed,  my  aunt's  "  Eee-ally, 
Charles  ! "  was  almost  as  good  in  its  way  as  old 
Hawke's  "  Ree-diculous !  "  But,  humorous  as  it 
might  he,  for  my  part  I  was  not  in  the  mood  to 
appreciate  the  fun  of  it.  I  could  not  but  see  that 
if  the  Hawkes  and  my  relations  were  to  remain 
friends  I  must  take  leave  of  Clifton,  or,  at  all 
events,  clear  out  of  my  uncle's  house.  I  was  full  of 
these  bothersome  fancies  when  my  aunt  and  cousins 
bade  me  good-night.  Great-hearted  Sophie,  noticing 
the  gloom  on  my  brow  and  wishing  to  send  me  to 
bed  happy,  whispered  as  she  squeezed  my  hand, 
"  You  are  making  Florence  very  fond  of  you,  Jack  ; 
I  am  sure  she  likes  you  exceedingly,"  and  tripped 
out  of  the  room.  Her  words  were  like  a  dram  to 
a  fainting  man ;  yet  I  still  felt  very  worried  as  I 
resumed  my  chair  and  lighted  another  cigar. 

"  What  was  that  Sophie  croaked  in  your  ear  just 
now  ?  "  inquired  my  uncle. 

"  Nothing  of  consequence,"  I  replied. 

"  The  girls  don't  sympathize  with  their  mother 
as  regards  old  Hawke,  d'ye  observe,  Jack  ?  "  said 
lie;  "  they  take  after  me.  Not  that  your  aunt  likes 
the  man.  I  know  what's  in  her  mind.  Mr.  Hawke 
is  a  neighbour  :  we  have  exchanged  civilities  and 
hospitality ;  his  girls  are  pleasant  companions  for 
my  daughters  ;  and  whilst  your  aunt  would  be  the 
first  to  clap  you  on  your  back  and  help  your  love- 


134  jack's  courtship. 

making  in  all  ways  possible — so  heartily  does  she 
object  to  the  sort  of  marriage  old  Hawke  wants  to 
bring  about — if  you  were  an  outsider,  no  relation, 
merely  a  friend  who  lived  in  the  town ;  yet  being 
my  nephew  and  owing  your  knowledge  of  the 
Hawkes  to  us,  she  hangs  back,  and  is  foolish  enough 
to  trouble  herself  over  what  Hawke  may  think,  and 
the  prospect  of  his  cutting  us." 

"  Uncle,"  said  I,  "I  am  in  a  very  uncomfortable 
position.  I  feel  that,  under  the  circumstances,  I 
have  no  right  to  remain  here ;  and  yet  I  am  so 
deeply  obliged  to  you  all  for  your  affectionate  kind- 
ness, that  I  feel  I  should  be  acting  with  brutal 
ingratitude  if  I  even  hinted  that  I  ought  to  pack  up 
and  be  off." 

"  Quite  right,  the  brutallest  ingratitude,"  said  he 
with  twinkling  eyes ;  "so  therefore  what  d'ye  say., 
as  you  common  sailors  observe,  to  take  a  turn  with 
this  jawing  tackle  ?  " 

"  But  it  is  only  right  I  should  tell  you,"  continued 
I,  "that  though  to  save  my  aunt  from  any  mortifica- 
tion I  should  deem  it  my  duty  to  leave  your  house  " 
(he  made  a  dreadful  grimace  as  I  used  these  words), 
"it  is  not  at  all  probable  that  I  should  quit  the 
neighbourhood." 

"What!"  cried  he.  "Are  you  so  far  gone  as 
that  ?  " 

"  I'll  not  put  it  in  that  way,"  said  I,  speaking 
very  calmly  ;  "  but  I'll  answer  by  saying  that  I  am 


A  LITTLE  DINNER  AT   CLIFTON  LODGE.       135 

in  love  with  Florence  Hawke,  and  that  I  could  no 
more  dream  of  returning  to  London  and  giving  up 
all  chance  of  seeing  her  again  this  side  of  her 
marriage  with  young  Morecomhe,  or  any  other  man 
her  father  may  induce  her  to  take,  than  I  could  of 
cutting  off  my  nose  in  the  hope  of  improving  my 
heauty.'' 

"Well,  smite  my  timbers  !  "  cried  he,  looking 
at  me  wonderingly  and  talking  through  his  nose, 
as  his  custom  was  when  suddenly  excited ;  "if 
ever  I  could  believe  you  were  so  much  in  earnest. 
Confound  ye,  I  believe  you'd  marry  the  girl 
to-morrow." 

"  This  instant !  "  I  replied  warmly. 

"  But  have  you  reflected  ?  "  cried  he,  running  his 
eye  over  me.  "Are  you  sure  of  your  own  meaning  ? 
Is  it  possible  that  a  man  can  fall  in  love  safely  in 
the  short  time  you  have  known  Miss  Florence  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  I  stoutly,  "quite  possible." 

"  And  you  wouldn't  leave  Clifton  now,  even  if 
you  give  us  up  !  " 

"  Assuredly  not !  "  I  replied. 

"Well,  roast  me  !  "  cried  he,  viewing  me  with  a 
kind  of  admiration ;  "if  this  don't  beat  cock- 
fighting.  But  how  d'ye  calculate  on  getting  to 
windward  of  the  old  fellow  and  young  Morecombe  ?  " 
continued  he,  talking  inquisitively. 

"  If  I  can  teach  her  to  love  me  she'll  have  me,  if 
she's  the  woman  I  believe  her  to  be,"  I  answered. 


136  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  Well,  bang  me,  if  this  don't  beat  cock-fighting !  P 
he  cried  again.  "By  jingo,  Jack,  you'll  get  ber — 
you're  bound  to  win — if  this  is  your  policy.  Why, 
you  have  only  to  make  her  as  much  in  earnest  as 
you  are  and  the  old  Hawke  '11  have  to  take  "wing — 
he'll  have  to  mizzle.  Oppose  'em  ;  "  he  ejaculated, 
looking  at  me,  and  talking  as  though  he  were 
thinking  aloud.  "  Why,  there's  something  in  the 
will  of  two  resolved  young  lovers  that  makes  them 
lit  to  conquer  all  creation — aye,  were  the  globe 
populated  entirely  with  Hawkes.  Well,  may  I  be 
smothered  this  blessed  night  if  I'm  not  considerably 
astonished  too,"  said  he,  pitching  his  cigar  through 
the  open  window  and  rising.  "Oh  for  a  talking 
owl,  that  I  might  despatch  the  mouser  with  news  of 
your  ideas  to  old  Hawke,  who  by  this  time  should 
be  abed,  nightcap  on,  smiling  as  he  dreams  of 
blood !  " 

He  laughed  so  heartily  that  it  took  him  several 
minutes  to  light  his  candle,  and  after  I  had  closed 
my  bedroom  door  I  could  hear  the  rumbling  of  his 
half- smothered  laughter  in  the  passage,  as  if  he 
waited  for  the  fit  to  subside  before  entering  his 
wife's  room. 


(     137     ) 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

MISS   hawke 's  instructions. 

My  uncle's  merriment  was  not  contagious.  For  my 
part  I  never  in  all  my  life  felt  less  disposed  to 
laugh  than  after  I  had  said  good-night  to  him.  It 
was  anything  but  pleasant  to  reflect  that  my  visit 
was  likely  to  end  in  making  the  Hawkes  and  my 
relatives  enemies.  My  uncle  might  pooh-pooh ; 
my  cousins  might  give  me  their  sympathy ;  but  it 
was  clear  that  my  aunt  had  strong  opinions  on  the 
subject  of  our  duty  towards  our  neighbours,  and 
that  she  found  my  admiration  of  Miss  Hawke  objec- 
tionable— at  all  events,  whilst  I  was  her  guest. 
Therefore,  as  I  had  not  the  least  notion  of  quitting 
the  neighbourhood  in  which  Miss  Hawke  resided,  it 
was  for  me  to  consider  whether  I  should  risk  offend- 
ing my  uncle  by  quitting  his  house  whilst  there  was 
yet  time  to  save  a  rupture  between  the  two  families, 
or  insure  a  quarrel  by  remaining. 

Now,   to   offend   so    large-hearted    and    kind   a 
creature  as   my  uncle  would   have  been  the  very 


138  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

hardest  obligation  that  could  have  been  imposed  on 
rne.  I  had  paid  him  and  my  aunt  the  poor  compli- 
ment of  falling  in  love  with  a  friend  of  the  family 
under  their  daughters'  noses.  Yet,  instead  of 
resenting  this,  my  uncle  had  applauded  my  taste, 
my  cousins  had  as  good  as  given  me  to  understand 
that  I  might  count  upon  them  as  allies,  and  if  my 
aunt  had  played  a  neutral  part,  neither  helping  nor 
discouraging  me,  it  was,  beyond  doubt,  because  she 
did  not  want  Mr.  Hawke  to  find  an  excuse  for  taking 
offence  at  the  behaviour  of  a  young  gentleman  who 
owed  his  introduction  to  Clifton  Lodge  to  his  uncle 
and  herself.  Therefore,  bearing  the  goodness  and 
warm-heartedness  of  these  people  in  mind,  I  say  it 
was  very  hard  for  me  to  guess  what  was  the  right 
thing  to  do. 

However,  I  thought  my  best  plan  would  be  to 
take  Sophie  into  my  confidence  and  ask  her 
advice ;  and  after  breakfast  next  morning — during 
which,  by  the  way,  I  do  not  remember  that  any 
reference  was  made  to  the  Hawkes  nor  their  dinner 
— I  followed  her  into  the  grounds,  and  begged  her 
to  give  me  ten  minutes  somewhere  out  of  the  heat 
of  the  sun,  as  I  had  something  to  say  to  her. 

"  What  is  it,  Jack  ?  "  says  she. 

"  I  am  going  to  open  my  heart  to  you,"  said  I, 
"  and  want  your  judgment.  You  remember  what 
was  said  in  the  dining-room  last  night  ?  " 

"Very  well   indeed,"    she  replied.      "But  you 


MISS   HAWKES   INSTRUCTION-.  139 

should  not  take  great  notice  of  what  mamma  says. 
She  is  a  little  peculiar  in  some  things — too  sensi- 
tive, as  papa  thinks.  She  owns  she  does  not  like 
Mr.  Hawke  very  much,  and  yet  she  seems 
frightened  at  the  idea  of  giving  him  offence." 

"It  is  her  heing  frightened,"  said  I,  "that 
makes  my  position  here  emharrassing." 

"  But  you  need  not  mind  her  heing  frightened, 
I  tell  you.  It  is  ridiculous.  Suppose  Mr.  Hawke 
takes  it  into  his  head  to  cut  us.  Who  cares  ? 
Florence  will  remain  friendly,  depend  upon  it, 
and  she  is  the  only  one  of  the  lot  we  like." 

"  You  say,  '  Suppose  Mr.  Hawke  takes  it  into  his 
head  to  cut  us.'  Xow  if  he  cuts  3*011  it  will  be 
through  me.  I  do  not  like  the  notion  :  and  here- 
I  am  for  you  to  advise." 

"What  upon?" 

"Is  it  not  my  duty  to  pack  up  and  leave  your 
house  ?" 

"  First  of  all,  Jack,  why  do  you  want  to  leave  ?  " 
says  she. 

"  That  Mr.  Hawke  may  have  no  excuse  to  cut 
you." 

"Really,  Jack,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  thought  you 
were  a  clever  hoy,  but  I  find  you  stupid.  Do  you 
suppose  that  an}*  of  us  values  Mr.  Hawke's  ac- 
quaintance sufficiently  to  induce  us  to  raise  a 
finger  to  prevent  him  from  cutting  us  if  he  wants 
to  do  so?*" 


140  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  Well,  Sophie,  I  am  forced  to  judge  to  a  large 
extent  by  what  your  mother  says." 

"Perhaps  you  want  to  go?"  says  she,  looking 
at  me. 

"Ay,  look  your  hardest:  you'll  see  nothing 
resembling  that  wish,"  I  answered.  "Want  to 
go,  do  I  ?  Want  to  leave  these  flowers  and  trees, 
and  that  hospitable  home  and  the  kind  hearts  in 
it?  No,  no.  I  am  very  well  satisfied.  Only  I 
cannot  stay — I  could  not  be  happy  were  I  to  stay 
— if  I  felt  that  my  presence  distressed  your  mother 
as  a  kind  of  standing  annoyance  to  Mr.  Hawke." 

"Bother  Mr.  Hawke  !  "  exclaimed  the  dear  girl, 
pouting.  "  Why  do  you  talk  of  him  ?  I  thought 
you  were  going  to  speak  of  Florence." 

"So  I  am.  She  is  involved  in  all  this.  It 
concerns  her  more  than  anybody  else." 

"How?  since  you  talk  so  coolly  of  feeling  it 
your  duty  to  leave  Clifton,  and  of  course  her?" 

"  Oh,  make  no  mistake,  Sophie,"  said  I,  shaking 
my  head  and  very  gravely  laughing.  "I  don't 
mean  to  leave  Clifton,  and  I  don't  mean  to  leave 
her.  If  I  quit  that  house  there,  it  will  be  only 
to  retire  to  a  lodging  in  Bristol,  or  hereabouts. 
No,  no,  cousin :  I  am  in  love  with  Florence 
Hawke,  and  rest  assured  I  am  not  the  man  to 
leave  young  Morecombe,  or  anybody  else,  a  clear 
field,  until  she,  and  only  she,  orders  me  to  sheer 
off." 


HISS. HAWSE'S  INSTRUCTIONS.  141 

"  Let  us  sit  down,  Jack,"  said  Sophie  ;  "  this  is 
very  interesting/'  and  her  face  took  the  expression 
I  have  sometimes  noticed  in  a  girl  when  she  comes 
to  an  exciting  part  of  a  novel. 

"  You  whispered  last  night,  Sophie  dear,"  said 
I,  "that  I  might  he  sure  Miss  Hawke  liked  me. 
Did  you  say  that  merely  to  encourage  me,  or  do 
you  positively  know  it  to  be  true  ?  " 

"  I  positively  know  it  to  be  true." 

"How  did  she  convey  it'?  What  were  her 
words?"  said  I,  ogling  the  fat  and  amiable  face 
alongside  of  me. 

"  Why,  she  said  it  several  times.  Last  evening, 
for  instance,  when  she  accompanied  us  upstairs 
before  leaving,  I  said  to  her,  '  Florence,  I  really 
believe  you  have  made  nry  cousin  Jack  in  love 
with  you.'  She  laughed  and  answered,  '  I  believe 
I  have,  dear.'  I  said,  'Are  you  glad?'  'I  don't 
know,'  she  answered;  'I  won't  say;  you  repeat 
everything  ! '  '  Indeed  I  don't,'  said  I.  '  But 
although  he  is  my  cousin  I'm  not  afraid  to  say 
he  is  worth  twelve  dozens  of  Beginald  More- 
combes."  She  cried  '  Hush ! '  and  looked  at  mamma, 
who  was  having  her  cloak  fastened  by  Amelia. 
'  Have  you  no  message  for  him  ? '  said  I.  She 
put  her  hand  over  my  mouth  and  told  me  not  to 
be  silly.     Is  that  enough  for  you,  Jack  ?  " 

I  have  often  wondered  what  sort  of  a  face  mine 
was  whilst  Sophie  talked  in  this  strain.     To  judge 


142  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

from  my  feelings  nothing  could  have  been  more 
imbecile  from  the  ludicrous  delight  expressed  in  it. 

"Oh,  Sophie!"  I  cried,  "you  are  a  sweet 
creature  to  tell  me  all  this.  Is  not  she  a  darling 
girl  ?  Leave  Clifton  !  No — though  every  lodging 
in  Bristol  city  was  full,  and  there  was  nothing  but 
an  old  bathing-machine  to  sleep  in." 

"But  what  are  your  ideas?"  asked  Sophie. 
"Mr.  Hawke  is  certainly  not  likely  to  encourage 
you." 

"  He  may  die,"  said  I.  "I  only  want  Florence 
to  be  true." 

Sophie  heaved  a  sigh.  All  this  was  in  her  vein  ; 
it  was  better  than  a  story,  for  it  was  real  and 
happening  before  her;  it  abounded  in  living 
sentiment,  and,  best  of  all,  she  was  having  a  finger 
in  it. 

"You  must  make  her  fond  of  you,  and  then 
she'll  be  true,"  said  she. 

"I  will,"  I  replied;  "but  you  must  give  me 
a  hand,  Sophie.  The  time  will  come  when  I  shall 
only  be  able  to  meet  her  by  stealth — if,  indeed,  she 
ever  consents  to  meet  me  secretly :  and  who  is 
there  but  you  to  whom  I  could  trust  the  messages 
I  should  want  to  send  her  ?  " 

"  But  if  Mr.  Hawke  cuts  us,  and  forbids  Florence 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  us,  out  of  fear  of 
you " 

"  That's  just  it !  "  I  cried,  fetching  my  knee  a 


MISS   HAWKE'S   INSTRUCTIONS.  143 

blow.  "  There  you  exactly  hit  what  I'm  afraid 
of:  and  hence,  if  not  for  your  aunt's  sake,  then  for 
my  own,  ought  not  I  to  clear  out  of  this  at  once, 
and  let  old  Hawke  suppose  I  have  left  Clifton  ?  " 

She  reflected,  and  then  said,  "No;  better  let 
things  take  their  chance.  There's  nothing  like 
honesty,  Jack.  Hiding  is  mean.  Besides,  it's 
undignified.  Are  you  not  good  enough  to  be 
Mr.  Hawke's  son-in-law?  What  is  his  wealth 
but  a  kind  of  peppermint  that  disguises  a  nasty 
flavour  ?  If  you  hide  and  meet  Florence  secretly, 
even  supposing,  as  you  say,  that  she  consented  to 
appointments  of  that  kind,  you  would  only  be 
humbling  yourself  in  her  papa's  opinion  when  he 
came  to  hear  of  you,  and  lead  him  to  suppose  you 
were  ashamed  of  yourself  for  daring  to  look  so  high 
as  his  daughter,  and  therefore  skulked,  as  papa 
would  say." 

"But  it  must  be  plain  to  you,  Sophie,"  said  I, 
"that  if  I  am  to  exhaust  old  Hawke's  patience,  I 
can't  go  on  living  in  yonder  house.  There  is  a  limit 
fjven  to  your  father  and  mother's  hospitality,  and 
old  Hawke  may  hold  out  for  the  next  ten  years." 

"Don't  trouble  yourself  about  him  for  the 
present,"  responded  the  sagacious  girl.  "  Think 
of  Florence." 

"You  mean,  I  must  win  her  love  before  dis- 
turbing myself  about  her  papa?"  Sophie  nodded. 
"  Is  it  to  be  done,  my  darling  ?  " 


144  JACK'S  COURTSPIIP. 

"  Now,  Jack,  if  you  cannot  answer  that  question, 
how  should  I  ?  " 

"  True,  Sophie,  true  :  but  what  I  want  to  say  is, 
if  her  house  is  closed  against  rue,  and  a  coolness 
springs  up  between  her  family  and  yours,  how  the 
dickens  am  I  to  see  her  ?  " 

"  Amelia  and  I  must  arrange  that  matter  some- 
how," said  she,  knitting  her  plump  brow  in  deep 
reflection.  "  I  don't  suppose,  even  if  Mr.  Hawke 
should  cut  us,  that  he  could  compel  Florence  not  to 
speak  to  us  if  we  met  her  ;  and  there  really  ought 
to  be  no  difficulty  in  our  meeting  her,  nor  in  your 
being  with  us  when  we  do  meet." 

"  Oh,  you  clever  girl !  "  cried  I,  seizing  her  hand 
and  squeezing  it.  "  But  didn't  your  papa  say  I 
was  safe  in  your " 

"  Why  talk  of  there's  Florence  now  !  "  she 

exclaimed  bouncing  off  the  seat,  and  she  ran  as 
hard  as  she  could  pelt  across  the  lawn  towards  the 
carriage -drive,  along  which  Florence  Hawke  was 
quietly  walking. 

I  had  a  mind  to  follow,  and  I  should  have  done 
so  had  Miss  Hawke  shown  by  her  manner  that  she 
saw  me.  They  kissed,  and  I  expected  them  to 
come  my  way :  but  instead,  they  walked  towards 
another  part  of  the  grounds  after  exchanging  a 
few  words,  and  disappeared  behind  the  house.  I 
remained  seated,  for  I  supposed  that  Sophie  would 
not  let  her  friend  go  away  without  bringing  her  to 


MISS  HAWK£*6  INSTRUCTION-.  145 

me  or  calling  to  me  to  join  them  ;  and  sure  enough, 
in  about  twenty  minutes — but  not  before  ;  and  it 
might  have  been  twenty  days  for  the  tediousness 
of  it  as  a  bit  of  expectancy  and  waiting — they 
came  slowly  along  the  walk  on  the  right  of  the 
house.  I  stood  up  and  bowed  to  Miss  Hawke, 
whose  surprise  on  seeing  me  I  accepted  as  perfectly 
genuine.  A  little  colour  ran  into  her  cheeks,  but 
if  she  felt  any  embarrassment  she  showed  none. 
With  perfect  composure  she  advanced  and  shook 
hands  with  me,  and  at  once  accepted  Sophie's 
invitation  to  sit  a  few  minutes  in  the  shade  before 
going  into  the  hot  sunshine.  The  feeling  that  my 
cousin  and  I  had  been  deep  in  talk  about  her 
infused  a  sort  of  shyness  in  me.  After  all, 
bachelors  are  much  more  ingenuous  and  simple- 
hearted  than  is  believed.  On  the  other  hand,  she 
was  as  lady-like  and  sweet  and  self-possessed  as  if 
we  had  never  met  before. 

"  What  a  very  cool  and  fragrant  nook  this  is, 
Mr.  Seymour  !  "  said  she.  "  I  wish  we  had  such 
grounds  as  these." ' 

"  Jack  is  afraid  of  his  complexion,  Florence," 
said  Sophie.  "  That  is  why  he  sits  under  the 
trees." 

"  I  left  my  complexion  ashore  when  I  went  to 
sea,"  I  remarked,  "  and  when  I  returned,  although 
I  looked  for  it,  I  could  not  find  it.  How  is  Mr. 
Morecombe  this  morning,  Miss  Hawke  ?  " 

VOL.  i.  l 


146  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  He  is  likely  to  be  confined  to  his  room  for 
some  days.  But  why  do  you  ask  ? — do  you  hope 
he  is  better  ?  " 

"  Jack  is  a  most  bloodthirsty  man,  Florence," 
cried  Sophie.  "  He  said  he  wished  Mr.  More- 
combe  had  broken  his  neck  instead  of  twisting  his 
leg  for  stepping  on  poor  Flora." 

"I  suppose,"  said  I,  "you  will  be  having  the 
animal  buried  soon  ?  " 

"  She  was  buried  this  morning,"  answered  Miss 
Hawke.  "  I  shall  have  a  little  stone  erected  over 
her.     Don't  smile,  Mr.  Seymour." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  cry,  Miss  Hawke  ;  but  I  give 
you  my  word  I  have  not  the  least  disposition  to 
smile." 

"A  dog,"  said  Sophie,"  is  often  the  faithfullest 
friend  one  has ;  and  if  a  faithful  friend  don't 
deserve  a  tombstone,  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  who 
does.  Florence,  will  there  be  any  harm  in  my 
repeating  to  Jack  what  you  have  told  me?" 

"  Do  you  mean  now,  dear  ? "  exclaimed  Miss 
Hawke,  looking  confused. 

"If  you  like,"  said  Sophie.  "It  is  all  his 
doing.  He  will  have  to  hear  about  it  sooner  or 
later." 

"If  it  is  not  to  be  a  secret,  Miss  Hawke,  I  won't 
ask  you  to  trust  me,"  said  I,  deeply  admiring  her 
as  she  sat  looking  down,  a  warm  colour  in  her 
cheeks,  her    beautiful  eyes    half  veiled,  the  gold 


MISS  HAWKE'S  INSTRUCTIONS.  147 

threads  in  her  hair  glancing  in  the  twinkling  green 
shadows  cast  by  the  trees,  her  faultless  shape 
most  excellently  expressed  by  the  glove-like  fit  of 
her  simple  morning  dress. 

"It  is  no  secret,"  she  replied,  rallying  and 
speaking  quietly.  "It  concerns  the  friendship 
between  your  relatives  and  my  family.". 

"  The  long  and  short  of  it,"  burst  out  Sophie 
with  great  heat,  "is  this:  Mr.  Hawke  has 
requested  Florence  to  discontinue  her  visits  here. 
I  know  she  doesn't  like  me  to  tell  you  this  before 
her,  but  I  must  either  speak  or  die,  for  I  have 
never  heard  of  anything  more  ridiculous  and 
unnecessary." 

"  What  have  you  done  to  annoy  Mr.  Hawke, 
Sophie '?"  said  I. 

"What  have  we  done?  You  mean  what  have 
you  done  ? "  she  cried.  "  You  have  dared  to 
admire  Florence,  and  for  that  our  dear  friend 
here"  (kissing  her)  "is  commanded  to  drop  our 
acquaintance !  " 

This  was  a  tremendous  stroke  on  Sophie's  part. 
I  understood  it ;  I  saw  its  prodigious  value  to 
myself,  but  I  confess  I  was  awed  by  its  audacity. 
That  she  was  distressing  Miss  Florence  to  an 
extremity  by  whipping  out  with  all  this  before  me, 
I  could  witness  in  the  blushing  face  of  the  girl, 
whose  instincts  were  apparently  helpless,  for  she 
evidently  did  not  know  whether  to  go  or  stay,  or 


148  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

how  so  to  behave  as  to  give  by  her  conduct  the 
least  possible  significance  to  Sophie's  blunt 
candour.  But  it  was  a  noble  opportunity  for  nie, 
though  cruelly  obtained,  and,  trembling  as  I  was 
and  my  heart  beating  wildly,  I  would  not  lose  it. 

"  Were  ten  times  worse  than  this  to  follow,"  said 
I  in  a  low  voice  to  disguise  the  shake  in  it,  "I 
should  still  go  on  admiring  you,  Miss  Hawke. 
But  if  I  am  to  be  the  only  impediment  to  your 
visits  here,  Mr.  Hawke  may  at  once  withdraw  his 
commands,  for  I  will  leave  my  kind  relations." 

"  I  trust  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  Mr. 
Seymour,"  exclaimed  Miss  Hawke,  keeping  her  eyes 
rooted  to  the  ground.  "I  shall  obey  my  father, 
though  I  am  disobedient  now  in  calling;  but  it 
will  not  be  my  fault  if  your  relatives  do  not  remain 
the  same  warm  friends  of  mine  I  have  always 
found  them." 

Here  Sophie  shed  tears.  "  Oh,  Florence,  you 
know  we  all  love  you  !  How  cruel  and  silly  your 
papa  is  ! — yes,  cruel  and  silly  ! — boo  !  boo  !  " 
And,  lo  !  whilst  she  boo'd  Miss  Florence  pulled 
out  her  pockethandkerchief  and  put  it  to  her  eyes. 
Was  there  ever  a  more  moving  sight !  I  protest, 
mates,  I  was  very  near  turning  to  and  having  a 
bit  of  a  snuffle  on  my  own  account. 

"  It  is  a  most  unhappy  business,"  said  I.  "  But 
there  is  only  one  remedy :  I  must  go.  I  cannot 
remain  in  a   family  whose  peace  of  mind  I  am 


MISS  HAWKE'S   INSTRUCTIONS.  149 

disturbing,  and  whose  friends  I  am  alienating.  I 
ought  never  to  have  come  to  Clifton.  What  made 
my  uncle  go  and  find  me  out  ?  I  have  brought 
trouble  on  him,  and  misery — yes,  I  will  say  misery 
— on  myself.  And  if  you  wish  to  know  what  I 
mean,  Miss  Hawke.  I'll  explain  by  saying  that  it 
is  miserable  to  feel  that  I  have  no  further  oppor- 
tunity of  meeting  you,  of  being  in  your  company, 
of  even  seeing  you." 

Here  Sophie  bounced  up.  "  Florence,  before 
you  go  I  want  to  say  a  word  to  Amelia  about  your 
visit.  Don't  leave  before  I  return,''  and  away  she 
bundled  across  the  lawn. 

It  was  a  neatly  contrived  stratagem,  very  trans- 
parent, and  of  course  as  easily  seen  through  by 
Miss  Hawke  as  the  impassioned  young  chap  along- 
side of  her.  Possibly  Sophie  judged  by  my  speech 
that  I  was  in  a  fit  condition  to  make  love,  and  so 
hauled  off  at  what  she  reckoned  the  right  moment. 

"  I  hope  my  cousin's  candid  tongue  has  not 
vexed  you,  Miss  Hawke,"  said  I.  "  You  will 
ascribe  her  outspokenness  to  indignation.  She 
loves  and  admires  you,  and  is  angry  to  think  that 
she  may  lose  you  as  a  friend  through  no  fault  of 
her  own." 

"  Sophie  is  not  a  girl  to  vex  anybody,"  she 
replied.     "  Nor  will  she  lose  me  as  a  friend." 

"And  I?" 

"Oh,  Mr.  Seymour,  we  must  hope  to  meet  each 


150  JACK'S   COUKTSHIP. 

other  occasionally  in  our  walks — that  is,  whilst 
you  remain  here,"  she  said,  answering  with  some 
confusion ;  and  then,  perhaps  fancying  that  I 
might  find  more  in  that  answer  than  she  intended, 
she  added,  "  Clifton  is  not  a  very  large  place,  and 
people  are  constantly  meeting.'' 

"I  quite  understand,"  said  I,  making  her  a 
little  how.  "But  the  sort  of  meetings  you  mean 
promise  but  a  poor  look-out  for  me." 

"  But  you  have  threatened  to  leave,  and  deprive 
yourself,  therefore,  of  even  such  small  consolation 
as  a  passing  bow  might  afford  you,"  said  she, 
laughing  and  talking  more  easily,  though  all  this 
while  she  never  looked  at  me. 

"  I  did  not  say  I  should  leave  the  neighbour- 
hood," I  replied ;  "  only  that  house  yonder." 

This  hove  the  darling  right  into  the  wind's  eye 
again.  She  was  all  aback  in  a  breath,  blushing, 
bothered,  and  yet  liking  it ;  couldn't  I  tell  that  ? 

"  Miss  Hawke,"  said  I,  plucking  up  my  heart 
for  a  header,  and  going  in,  so  to  speak,  with  my 
eyes  shut  and  my  hands  clenched,  "I'm  but  a 
plain  young  fellow — I  don't  mean  plain  in  the 
sense  of  ugliness :  my  sea  training  has  knocked 
all  power  out  of  me  of  capering  and  smirking  and 
stepping  round  an  emotion  like  a  French  dancing- 
master.  I  can  do  no  more  than  speak  out,  and 
though  I  don't  feel  it  is  fair  that  I  should  be 
tackling  you  alone  here,  calling  as  you  have  with- 


MISS  HAWKERS  INSTRUCTIONS.  151 

out  expecting  to  see  me  "  (here  she  turned  her 
beautiful  eyes  up  to  me  for  the  first  time  as  if  she 
would  say,  'Are  you  quite  sure  of  that?9)3  "yet, 
as  I  may  not  have  another  chance,  I  must  tell  you 
how  deeply  I  admire  you — no,  no,  let  me  he  honest 
— let  me  say  love  you.  From  the  moment  I  set 
eyes  on  you  sitting  in  that  drawing-room  over 
there,  with  your  poor  old  dog  at  your  feet,  you 
have  never  been  out  of  my  thoughts.  It  seems 
but  yesterday — ay,  you  smile — well,  the  time  ha3 
been  short  enough.  But  then,  think  how  much 
we  have  been  together,  how  kind  and  sweet  and 
gentle  you  have  been  to  me.  That  is  no  compli- 
ment.. I  know — jou  could  not  be  otherwise.  Of 
course  I  ought  not  to  talk  to  you  like  this.  Mr. 
Hawke  would  think  me  a  villain  were  he  behind 
that  tree  ;  but  then  I  reckon  no  man  ever  yet  told 
a  girl  he  was  in  love  with  her  but  that  there  was 
some  relative  who  would  rather  he  should  have 
poisoned  himself.  You'll  go  away  laughing  when 
you  think  of  me — more  amused  than  angry  at  my 
presumption.  But  I've  had  my  say ;  you  know 
the  truth  ;  and  let  your  father  now  head  you  on 
what  course  he  will,  no  power  on  earth  can  prevent 
3^ou  from  remembering  that  the  young  sailor  fellow, 
Jack  Seymour,  whom  you  met  at  his  uncle's  house, 
was  devotedly  in  love  with  you,  the  first  girl  he 
ever  saw  in  his  life  whom  he  could  break  his 
clumsy  young  heart  over." 


152  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

Mates,  what  do  you  say  to  this  as  a  love-speech  ? 
How  does  it  read  ?  I  know  it's  an  outburst  that 
staggers  me  to  recall — plenty  of  it  too,  mind  you, 
and  handsomely  rounded  like  a  bit  of  Parliament 
jaw.  Well  I  remember  it,  and  that  you  may  not 
think  I've  improved  it  in  the  writing,  let  me  tell 
you  you  have  the  very  words  I  used.  It  gave  her 
time  to  rally,  and  she  stood  up,  and,  looking  at  me 
bravely,  "  Eest  assured,  Mr.  Seymour,"  says  she, 
"  that,  let  my  future  be  what  it  will,  I  shall  always 
remember  what  you  have  said  to  me  with  pride" 
and  my  darling  was  going  on,  but  her  colour 
suddenly  failed  her,  she  put  out  her  hand,  and 
said,  "  Good-bye." 

"  Won't  you  wait  for  Sophie  ?  "  said  I,  keeping 
hold  of  her  hand.     "  Don't  go  without  seeing  her." 

She  smiled  faintly  and  replied,  "Sophie  has 
forgotten  us.  Besides,  though  I  am  not  breaking 
my  word  to  papa,  for  I  could  not  make  him  the 
promise  he  wanted,  I  am  here  against  his  wish, 
and  must  go.  Good-bye."  And  in  a  moment  she 
was  walking  quickly  to  the  gate  watched  by  me, 
who,  for  love  of  her,  would  have  cheerfully  con- 
sented to  crawl  on  my  hands  and  feet  after  her 
to  her  father's  house,  merely  to  kiss  the  imprint 
of  her  feet. 

Scarcely  had  she  disappeared  when  Sophie  came 
along.     "Where's  Florence?"  she  asked. 

"  Gone  home,"  said  I. 


MISS  HAWKE'S  INSTRUCTIONS.  153 

My  cousin  took  a  long  look  at  me.  The  agita- 
tion that  worked  in  my  soul  was  expressed,  small 
doubt,  in  my  face. 

"Did  you  say  anything  to  drive  her  away, 
Jack  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  told  her  I  was  in  love  with  her — that's  all," 
I  answered. 

"  I  thought  you  would — I  thought  you  would  !  " 
cried  she,  looking  mighty  pleased.  "  Indeed,  I 
meant  that  you  should.  Why  did  I  leave  you 
alone  with  her  but  for  that?  I  had  nothing  to 
speak  to  Amelia  about.  Haven't  even  seen  Amelia. 
What  did  Florence  say?  " 

"Why,"  I  answered,  "she  said  that,  let  her 
future  be  what  it  would,  she  would  always  re- 
member my  words  with  pride." 

"  Did  she  now — really  !  And  what  did  you  say 
to  that?" 

"  You  see,  my  dear,  it  was  her  answer  to  what  I 
had  already  said." 

"  But  what  was  it  that  you  said,  Jack?  I  ought 
to  know.  Good  gracious,  how  can  I  help  you  if 
you  don't  tell  me  what  goes  on  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  I,  mumbling  a  trifle,  for  there  is 
no  unpleasanter  job  a  man  can  be  set  to  than 
having  to  recite  the  stuff  he  mouths  to  a  girl  in 
an  impassioned  moment — it's  like  hearing  an  old 
love-letter  read  out  before  a  crowd ;  "I  told  her 
that  I  was  devotedly  in  love  with  her,  and  that,  let 


154  JACK'S  COUETSHIP. 

her  father  do  what  he  pleased,  he  could  never 
make  her  forget  that  Jack  Seymour  had  told  her 
she  was  the  first  girl  he  had  ever  met  in  his  life 
whom  he  could  break  his  clumsy  young  heart 
over." 

"  Did  you  say  that  really  '!  "  cried  Sophie,  with 
a  face  upon  her  as  if  she  were  witnessing  a  senti- 
mental comedy  when  the  most  exciting  part  was 
being  acted.  "How  very  pretty  !  Florence  is  sure 
to  have  liked  that*  But  why  '  clumsy '  young 
heart  ?  '  Young  heart '  is  very  well,  but  why 
clumsy,  Jack  ?  " 

"Look  here,  Sophie,"  said  I,  "when  a  man 
feels  as  I  do  and  has  to  speak  up,  he  says  what 
comes  into  his  mouth  out  of  his  feelings.  I  felt  I 
talked  clumsily,  and  that's  why  I  used  the  word 
clumsy.  Don't  criticize,  or  you'll  make  me  think 
I  could  have  done  better — an  unpleasant  reflection 
when  it's  too  late." 

"  At  all  events,  you  have  confessed  your  feelings 
to  her,"  exclaimed  Sophie.  "  She  knows  the  truth 
now." 

"  Yes,  she  knows  the  truth  now,"  said  I ;  "  and 
it  will  be  in  her  mind  when  young  Morecombe's 
leg  gets  well  enough  to  enable  him  to  plump  down 
on  his  knees  to  her — for  I  suppose  he'll  be  pro- 
posing marriage  soon.  Did  she  come  here  ex- 
pressly to.  tell  you  that  her  father  had  forbidden 
her  to  call  ?  " 


MISS  HAWKE'S  INSTRUCTIONS.  155 

"  Yes.  She  was  going  to  write,  but  was  afraid 
that  she  should  not  be  able  to  make  herself  fully 
understood  in  a  letter.  Besides,  might  not  she 
hope  to  get  just  another  peep  at  the  sailor  man 
she  has  fascinated  ?  " 

"  You  mean  to  say,  then,  that  Mr.  Hawke  has 
actually  forbidden  her  to  visit  you?  " 

"  Whilst  you  are  here,*'  answered  Sophie. 

"Oh!"  said  I. 

"  I'll  give  you  the  story  as  she  told  it  me," 
exclaimed  Sophie.  "  Last  night,  after  we  had  left, 
her  father  inquired  if  you  and  she  had  met  before 
that  evening.  Florence  wanted  to  know  why  he 
asked  such  a  question.  'Because,'  said  he,  'of 
the  familiarity  of  young  Mr.  Seymour's  manner  to 
you.'  Florence  denied  that  you  were  familiar,  on 
which  Mr.  Hawke  flew  into  a  rage,  asked  if  his 
daughter  thought  him  blind,  declared  she  had 
encouraged  you,  and  ordered  her  to  say  whether 
she  and  you  had  met  before.  Of  course  she  told 
him  the  truth  ;  and  on  her  informing  him  that  she 
had  dined  with  us  on  the  evening  of  your  arrival, 
that  you  had  accompanied  her  and  Amelia  to  the 
Cathedral  and  taken  a  drive  afterwards,  and  then 
lunched  at  Clifton  Lodge,  his  anger,  she  admitted, 
was  so  great  that  he  could  barely  speak. 
1  Florence,'  said  he,  '  I  utterly  forbid  you  to  call 
again  upon  the  Seymours,  or  have  any  further 
intercourse   with    them   whilst    that    young   man 


156  JACK'S   COUKTSHIP. 

remains  in  their  house.'  She  said,  'Very  well, 
papa ;  but  I  must  explain  why  to  them,  and  I 
certainly  will  not  promise  not  to  speak  to  Sophie 
and  Amelia  if  we  meet  out  of  doors.'  What  more 
passed  she  did  not  tell  me.  No  doubt  he  fumed 
and  stamped  and  went  on  rating  her.  Those 
pompous  men  who  are  so  anxious  about  the 
world's  opinion  are  often  mean  creatures  and 
tyrants  in  their  own  homes,  when  there  are  no 
spectators  but  their  family.  She  said  her  first 
idea  was  to  write ;  then  she  resolved  to  call  this 
morning  and  tell  mamma  or  me  or  Amelia  that 
her  papa  had  forbidden  her  to  visit  us,  and 
why." 

"  That  shows  how  much  she  likes  you  all,"  said 
I.  "  She  is  a  sweet  woman — so  tender  and 
sympathetic.  I  doubt  if  she  would  have  the  heart 
to  pick  a  flower  for  fear  of  causing  it  pain." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  Jack,"  said  Sophie. 
"  She  is  very  fond  of  picking  flowers.  But,  as  you 
say,  her  calling  shows  a  very  great  liking  for  us, 
for  in  a  measure  she  has  defied  her  papa  by  doing 
so.  And  her  coming  at  once  proves  her  anxiety  to 
immediately  prevent  any  chance  of  our  misjudging 
her.  Amelia  and  I  and  she  have  been  so  much 
together,  that  had  a  couple  of  days  passed  without 
our  seeing  her  we  should  have  wondered." 

"And  have  called,  perhaps,  and  been  affronted 
by  old  Hawke  or  his  flunkeys.     To  save  you  any 


MISS  HAWKES  INSTRUCTIONS.  157 

risk  of  that  kind  might  be  one  of  her  reasons  in 
coming  here  in  a  hurry  after  her  father's  kick-up. 
How  does  she  speak  of  Alphonso !     In  bitterness  ?  " 

"Oh  no;  in  sorrow,"'  replied  Sophie.  "She 
softened  the  story  in  every  way— I'm  sure  of  that. 
And  all  the  time  there  was  a  kind  of  apology  for 
herself  in  her  manner,  as  if  it  distressed  her  to 
present  her  father  in  a  disagreeable  light ;  though 
if  she  were  to  talk  at  all  about  him  she  must  speak 
the  truth.'" 

"  What  do  you  think  will  be  the  end,  Sophie  ?  " 
said  I.  "Will  her  father  get  his  way  with  her  as 
regards  young  Morecombe  ?  " 

"No,"  cried  she,  warmly;  "not  in  a  thousand 
years.  All  that  he  is  doing  makes  her  hate  Mr. 
Morecombe.  Her  spirit  is  not  to  be  shaped  by  a 
will — even  though  it  be  her  father's — that  she 
cannot  respect." 

"  Just  my  idea !  just  my  theory  of  her  !  "  I 
exclaimed  in  a  rapture. 

"  Though,''  continued  Sophie,  "  I  think  this  of 
Florence  :  her  father  will  never  get  her  to  marry  a 
man  she  does  not  care  about ;  but  I  do  not  think 
she  would  ever  marry  in  opposition  to  her  father's 
wishes.  She  would  never  become  a  wife  to  please 
her  father  only ;  but  she'll  die  an  old  maid,  I  am 
convinced,  rather  than  defy  him  in  the  other 
direction." 

"There's  no   use  in  telling  me  that,"  said  I. 


158  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

my  spirits  dropping  in  me  like  mercury  before  a 
tempest. 

"It's  your  own  fault,"  laughed  she;  "you  will 
ask  questions."  And,  looking  at  her  watch,  she 
was  about  to  leave  me,  saying  something  about 
expecting  a  dressmaker. 

14  Before  you  go,  dear,"  said  I,  "just  tell  me, 
will  you,  how: much  of  what  has  happened  this 
morning  do  you  intend  to  repeat  to  your  family  ?  " 

"All  that  I  know,"  [she  answered,  "which  of 
course  excludes  your  piece  of  love-making." 

"I  am  going  into  Bristol  for  a  stroll,"  said  I. 
"  Please  tell  your  mamma  I  shall  not  return  to 
lunch.  I  want  to  have  a  look  at  the  city  docks — 
the  corporation  quays,  don't  you  call  'em?" 

"  Don't  go  near  the  water,  Jack,"  said  she ; 
"  there's  a  suicidal  look  in  your  face." 

"No  fear,"  said  I.  "I'm  not  born  to  be 
drowned,  as  I  found  out  when  I  fell  overboard  once 
from  a  yardarm.  Sophie,  have  I  thanked  you 
for  the  interest  you  are  taking  in  my — in  my — 
what  shall  I  call  it  ? — in  that  sentimental  business 
which  your  father's  invitation  to  Clifton  has 
plumped  me  into  ?  If  I  have  not,  accept  now  my 
heartfelt  gratitude.  I  am  in  earnest,  Sophie.  As 
surely  as  that  sky  yonder  is  blue — is  it,  by  the 
way  ?  "  said  I,  taking  a  squint  aloft  to  make  sure ; 
"yes,  a  noble,  deep-sea,  South  Pacific  blue — so 
surely  do  I  intend  to  try  my  dead  best — all  that 


MISS  HAWKE'S  INSTRUCTIONS.  159 

I  know — to  win  Florence's  love  and  possess  her  as 
a  wife.  But  I  look  to  you  and  Amelia — and  to  you 
chiefly — to  help  me." 

"  I'll  help  you,  Jack." 

•   The  odds  against  me  are  immense." 

"  Yes,  they  aiv ;  but  it  is  the  odds  which  make 
the  fun  and  the  interest." 

'"'  Ay,  to  others,"  I  grumbled,  as  she  made  off 
after  taking  another  peep  at  her  watch. 

"Well,  she  was  a  dear  girl.  I  sometimes  think  I 
ought  to  have  made  a  sweetheart  of  Sophie 
Seyinour.  How  kind  she  was  to  listen  to  me  and 
encourage  me !  She  was  a  young  lady  who  had  never 
had  a  lover,  and  had  passed  through  life  without 
obtaining  an}'  further  attention  from  men  than  plain 
civilities.  Wlien,  instead  of  sneering  at  two  young 
people  whose  friends  are  one  too  many  for  them, 
instead  of  viewing  their  transports  with  a  jaundiced 
eye.  wondering  that  people  can  make  themselves 
ridiculous,  and  siding  with  the  relatives  of  the 
spoonies — when,  I  say,  instead  of  doing  all  this,  a 
girl,  destitute  as  Sophie  was  of  tender  experiences, 
turns  to  and  lays  hold  of  the  rope  the  lovers  are 
hauling  upon,  and  pulls  with  them  with  all  their 
might,  singing  out  cheerily  as  she  drags,  and  urging 
them  to  keep  up  their  spirits  and  never  dream  of 
letting  go — then,  mates,  she  deserves  a  pair  of  wings 
and  a  crown  on  her  head.  She  is  of  the  right  sort, 
a  real  blessing.     And  do  you  know  I  have  more 


160  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

than  once  thought  that  if  the  male  of  the  two  people 
she  helps  were  to  drop  the  lady  he  is  in  tow  of, 
and  tackle  the  woman  who  is  lending  them  both 
a  hand,  he  would  now  and  again  do  better  than  if 
he  held  on  to  his  original  choice. 


(     161     ) 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

I    TAKE    LODGINGS. 

My  motive  in  walking  into  Bristol  was  not  to  inspect 
the  docks  and  shipping,  but  to  hire  a  lodging.  I 
did  not  relish  the  errand.  It  was  a  blow  to  be 
obliged  to  give  up  my  noble  bedroom  at  my  uncle's., 
and  the  comfortable  and  plentiful  hospitality  of  his 
table,  because  old  Hawke  was  a  prig  and  a  two- 
penny squatter,  who  wanted  his  daughter  to  marry 
a  baronet's  son,  and  would  not  suffer  her  to  visit  a 
family  because  I  was  their  guest.  I  say  I  did  not 
relish  the  errand.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  stern 
duty.  It  was  out  of  the  question  that  I  could  con- 
tinue standing  between  the  friendship  of  Miss 
Hawke  and  my  cousins,  that  is,  preventing  them 
from  meeting  at  one  or  the  other's  house.  Nor 
could  I  be  sure  of  my  aunt's  opinion  on  the  subject. 
She  was  kind,  she  was  amiable,  but  she  valued  her 
neighbours'  opinion  and  liked  society ;  and  do  you 
suppose  that  I  could  have  gone  comfortably  to  bed 
in  her  house,  that  I  could  have  sat  down  to  a  meal 
VOL.  i.  m 


162  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

in  it,  haunted  as  I  must  certainly  have  been  by  the 
misgiving  that  behind  my  back  my  aunt  would  be 
saying  to  her  husband,  "  Our  nephew  is  a  nice 
youth  ;  but  I  cannot  help  thinking,  dear,  that  he 
would  have  shown  a  gentlemanly  spirit  in  leaving 
us  when  he  knew  that  Florence  was  prohibited 
from  calling  whilst  he  stayed  "  ?  No  :  it  was  my 
duty  to  my  relations  to  "make  tracks,"  as  Jonathan 
says,  just  as  it  was  my  duty  to  myself  to  look  out 
for  lodgings  in  the  neighbourhood.  So,  lighting  a 
cigar,  I  swung  out  of  the  grounds  into  the  highway 
and  the  blazing  summer  sun,  and  struck  out  for 
Bristol  city. 

The  truth  is,  though  I  could  very  easily  have 
found  the  accommodation  I  wanted  in  Clifton,  I 
considered  that  it  would  be  unwise  to  bring  up  in 
the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  old  Hawke's  man- 
sion :  it  would  have  been  a  little  too  defiant.  He 
was  bound  to  hear  that  I  had  left  my  uncle  and 
where  I  was  living ;  and  though  Bristol,  as  every- 
body knows,  is  within  an  easy  walk  of  Clifton,  yet 
the  sense  of  adjacency,  and  the  consternation  and 
anger  it  would  arouse  in  him,  were  not  likely  to  be 
so  violent  in  the  old  chap  if  he  heard  I  was  lodging 
in  Bristol  as  if  he  should  be  told,  "  Jack  Seymour, 
sir  ?  Oh,  he  lives  round  the  corner.  You  may  see 
his  diggings  from  your  daughter's  bedroom  window, 
sir." 

And  do  you  ask,  my  lads,  what  scheme  I  had — 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  163 

what  policy  ?  I  am  talking  about  old  Hawke's  con- 
sternation and  anger  as  if  I  was  afraid  of  him. 
Now  I  had  no  policy  at  all.  I  was  a  young  fellow 
deeply  in  love,  forced  by  a  sense  of  honour,  or 
courtesy,  or  whatever  you  please,  to  quit  my 
uncle's  roof,  but  constrained  by  my  passion  for 
Florence  Hawke  to  dwell  in  the  neighbourhood. 
Some  dim  hope  of  making  her  as  much  in  love 
with  me  as  I  was  with  her,  and  of  inducing  her 
to  elope,  haunted  me.  A  dim  hope  it  was,  vague 
and  thin,  yet  it  had  a  kind  of  lurking  life  in  me  too, 
and  so  I  confess  it.  But  policy !  Heaven  bless 
your  hearts,  I  had  none.  Never  was  a  courtship 
begun  more  aimlessly,  never  were  chances  heavier 
against  a  man.  Had  I  had  an  occupation  in 
London,  all  that  I  am  writing  would  have  been 
impossible.  I  should  have  had  to  return  to  my 
work,  and  there  would  have  been  an  end  of  this 
sentimental  spasm.  But  I  had  nothing  to  do  ; 
it  was  all  the  same  whether  I  lived  in  London  or 
Bristol.  I  was  twenty-five,  an  age  of  immense 
resolutions  and  poetic  fancies ;  I  had  two  cousins 
who  goaded  me  on ;  I  had  met  with  no  particular 
hindrance  in  the  young  lady  herself;  above  all,  I 
was  deeply,  honestly,  enthusiastically  in  love,  with 
an  absolute  scorn  of  Hawke's  gold,  and  with  no 
other  desire,  as  I  call  my  conscience  to  witness, 
than  the  possession  of  my  Australian  beauty. 
And   so,  mates,  you  have  in  a  few  lines  all  the 


164  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

reasons  I  can  offer  for  walking  into  Bristol  to  seek 
a  lodging. 

I  found  rooms  better  suited  to  my  purse  than 
my  ambition  in  a  little  bouse  not  far  from  College 
Green,  to  which  neighbourhood  I  had  been  directed, 
possibly,  by  the  memory  of  the  morning  I  had  spent 
with  Miss  Hawke  in  the  cathedral  there.  I  had 
to  choose  with  care  as  to  the  cost,  for  I  had  my 
London  lodgings  still  on  my  hands,  so  that  the  two 
rents  together  might  easily  mount  into  the  charge 
for  a  big  house.  The  Bristol  woman,  who  was  a 
gardener's  wife,  named  Mrs.  Chump,  a  person  with 
a  severe  eye,  dressed  in  black,  agreed  to  let  me  have 
a  sitting-room  and  bedroom  together,  with  a  plain 
breakfast,  for  fifteen  shillings  a  week.  This  I  agreed 
to  pay,  undertaking  to  shift  for  myself  in  my  other 
meals;  and  it  was  settled  that  I  should  instal 
myself  that  evening. 

As  I  stood  looking  about  me  in  the  little  parlour 
— the  furniture  poor,  though  clean,  a  few  prints  of 
naval  victories  on  the  walls,  a  circular  convex  mirror 
reposing  like  a  shield  upon  the  mantelpiece,  and 
causing  the  observer  to  recoil  as  he  remarked  the 
hideous  caricature  of  himself  in  it — I  could  not  help 
wondering  whether  I  was  not  making  a  very  great 
fool  of  myself  in  loitering  in  Bristol  instead  of 
returning  to  London.  The  poor  bit  of  a  room  I 
<?azed  at  set  me  thinking  of  the  spacious  and  glit- 
tering chambers   of  Clifton  Lodge.     I  imagined 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  165 

!Miss  Hawke  passing  along  outside  in  her  papa's 
fine  carriage,  and  taking  a  peep  at  her  admirer's 
lodgings,  and  thinking  to  herself,  "  This  is  the  sort 
of  life  he  'would  bring  me  to  were  I  to  marry  him." 
Upon  my  honour,  it  wanted  the  spirit  of  a  giant  to 
sustain  such  a  shock  as  that  reflection  gave  me. 
The  idea  of  her  despising  me  because  I  had  dared 
to  fall  in  love  with  her  on  no  sounder  merits  than 
an  income  incapable  of  yielding  me  better  lodgings 
than  these,  was  truly  awful.  And  let  me  tell  you, 
boys,  that  I  was  not  the  less  devoted  because  I  was 
capable  of  thinking  that  one  good  look  at  my  apart- 
ments might  make  her  despise  me  ;  for  a  man  may 
be  desperately  in  love  with  a  girl,  and  yet  possess 
so  sensitive  a  disposition  as  never  to  doubt  that  it 
would  take  very  little  to  cause  her  to  turn  up  her 
nose  at  him  and  back  away  with  a  sneer.  Perfect 
love,  they  say,  casteth  out  fear,  but  I  reckon  you 
must  first  get  your  love  perfect  on  both  sides. 

Anyway,  such  was  the  mood  these  lodgings  flung 
me  into,  that  I  am  very  positive  had  any  friend  been 
at  my  elbow  and  asked  me  to  consider  what  I  was 
doing,  I  should  have  pulled  my  hat  over  my  ears 
and  slept  that  night  in  London  town.  But  there 
was  no  friend  at  hand  to  usefully  direct  my  passing 
mood ;  and  being  left  to  myself,  why,  before  I  had 
measured  half  the  distance  to  my  uncle's  house, 
the  feelings  which  had  determined  me  to  stick  to 
the  district  were  once  more  bubbling  and  poppling 


166  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

in  full  force  in  my  foolish  young  heart,  and  I  was 
swearing  to  myself  that,  come  what  might,  so  long 
as  Florence  Hawke  gave  me  a  fraction  of  encourage- 
ment to  persevere  and  hope,  I  would  never  lose 
sight  of  her  nor  cease  to  believe  that  I  might  one 
day  get  her  to  share  my  future. 

On  my  way  to  Clifton  I  turned  into  a  confec- 
tioner's shop  to  get  a  mouthful  to  eat,  and  whilst  I 
was  munching  a  sandwich  on  top  of  a  high  stool, 
and  glowering  through  the  window,  that  was  filled 
with  bottles  of  candy,  glass  jellies,  and  such  things, 
Miss  Hawke  and  her  sister  drove  past ;  they  swept 
by  rapidly,  yet  not  so  fast  but  that  I  could  notice 
how  lovely  Miss  Florence  looked  in  a  brown  hat 
with  the  starboard  brim  looped  up.  I  hopped  off 
my  perch  and,  sandwich  in  hand,  ran  to  the  door 
to  follow  her  with  my  eyes,  but  saw  nothing  but 
the  back  of  her  parasol,  surmounted  by  the  square 
large  figure  of  the  coachman  as  the  carriage  rolled 
downhill. 

I  proceeded  on  my  way,  my  thoughts  full  of  the 
beautiful  girl,  and  asking  myself  all  sorts  of  ques- 
tions. Could  she  ever  endure  to  surrender  all  the 
luxury  her  father  was  accustoming  her  to  for  a  poor 
husband  ?  Was  there  the  least  probability  of  my 
ever  getting  her  to  love  me  ?  And  would  her  love 
be  of  such  a  kind  as  to  induce  her  to  act  as  one 
reads  of  girls  behaving  in  story-books,  and  now  and 
then  in  real  life;  as,  for  instance,  when  a  noble- 


I   TAKE  LODGINGS.  167 

man's  daughter  sacrifices  fortune,  friends,,  and 
family  for  a  fiddler  ?  or  when  Letitia  declines  a 
settlement  and  the  brother  of  an  earl  for  a  mis- 
sionary ? 

On  reaching  home  and  passing  along  the  drive  to 
the  hall  door,  I  caught  sight  of  my  uncle  sitting  at 
the  open  window  of  his  library.  He  lounged  in  an 
American  chair  which  hoisted  his  legs  up  ;  a  news- 
paper was  on  his  knee,  and  a  long  pipe  in  his  hand. 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  my  aunt  behind  him,  a  mere 
outline  in  the  shadow,  with  a  yellow-backed  novel 
on  her  lap  and  her  chin  upon  her  bosom.  She  was 
dozing.  And  the  right  kind  of  afternoon  it  was  for 
that  diversion — an  Indian  heat  in  the  soft  breeze 
that  kept  the  trees  rustling ;  bees  chorussing  a  sort 
of  bass  to  the  clear  treble  of  the  birds ;  a  rich 
soothing  smell  of  hay  mingled  with  the  scents  of 
the  flowers — just  one  of  those  days,  indeed,  when 
the  noble  form  of  the  tramp  may  be  seen  extended 
at  full  length  in  the  wayside  dry-ditch,  with  a  clout 
over  his  face  to  keep  off  the  wasps,  and  a  wisp 
under  each  knee  to  save  the  heels  of  his  breeches 
— a  day  in  which  a  man  who  despises  ants'  nests 
and  defies  sunstroke  would  select  for  a  snooze  in 
the  middle  of  a  field  of  tall  grass. 

"  Hillo,  Jack  !  "  sung  out  my  uncle,  spying  me, 
"  where  have  you  been,  my  lad  ?  Sophie  said 
something  about  your  going  to  view  the  docks,  and 
that  we  were  not  to  expect  you  to  lunch." 


168  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

His  shout  awoke  my  aunt.  I  stepped  into  the 
room  through  the  window,  glad  to  rest  myself ;  for 
a  man's  legs  should  be  made  of  cork  not  to  feel  like 
a  bundle  of  knots  after  the  ascent  of  those  Clifton 
hills  in  the  dog-days. 

"  I  have  been  into  Bristol,"  said  I,  "  but  not  to 
look  at  the  docks.     Where's  Sophie,  aunt  ?  " 

"  She  and  Amelia  have  gone  to  pay  some  visits, 
I  believe,"  answered  my  aunt. 

"  Not  to  the  Hawkes,  Jack,"  said  my  uncle, 
grinning.  "  I  suppose  you  know  what's  hap- 
pened?" 

"  Yes ;  I  was  with  Sophie  when  Miss  Hawke 
called." 

"She's  an  honest  lass,"  said  my  uncle,  "to  come 
with  the  news  plump — not  to  delay,  but  to  be  here 
with  it  first  thing  in  the  morning,  so  that  there 
might  be  no  mistake  so  far  as  she  and  we  are  con- 
cerned. I  am  sorry  you  drove  her  away.  I  should 
like  to  have  had  a  word  with  her." 

"I  don't  know  that  I  drove  her  away,  uncle,"  said 
I,  much  confused.  My  cousin,  of  course,  had  told 
all. 

"I  say,  Sophia,"  called  out  my  uncle,  "what 
d'ye  think  of  this  generation  ?  What's  your  calcu- 
lation concerning  these  times  ?  Fancy  youngsters, 
not  only  falling  in  love,  but  making  love — actually 
whipping  out  with  their  sentiments  after  two  or 
three  meetings  with  the  girls.     Don't  it  beat  cock- 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  169 

fighting?  What  would  our  papas  and  mammas 
have  thought  of  such  energy  ?  I  put  it  all  clown 
to  George  Stephenson.  Had  he  left  the  stage- 
coach alone,  we'd  have  been  going  along  at  the  old 
decorous  rate  of  seven  or  eight  miles  an  hour,  and 
a  long  lounge  between  whiles  at  the  hostelries. 
Nowadays  the  world's  in  tow  of  the  locomotive; 
and  we  make  love,  we  make  money,  we  are  born, 
we  live,  and  we  die  with  our  steam-gauges  indicating 
a  steam  pressure  one  remove  from  bursting  point." 

"  You  see  what  I  feared  has  taken  place,  Mr. 
Jack,"  said  my  aunt,  putting  a  mark  in  her  book 
and  closing  it.  "  Mr.  Hawke  has  taken  offence ; 
and,  though  no  doubt  we  shall  remain  on  bowing 
terms  with  Florence  and  Emily,  our  visiting  must 
be  considered  at  an  end." 

"  Well,  if  I  meet  Hawke  I'll  shake  hands  with 
him ;  but  he'll  never  get  me  across  his  threshold 
again,"  exclaimed  my  uncle.  "  The  old  coxcomb  ! 
think  of  him  prohibiting  his  daughter  from  visiting 
us.  I  wish  I  had  him  at  sea,  I'd  work  his  old 
iron  up." 

"I  cannot  blame  him,"  said  my  aunt.  "It  is 
exceedingly  mortifying  so  far  as  we  are  concerned, 
because  we  are  really  quite  innocent  of  any  inten- 
tion to  mortify  him.  But  if  you  will  put  yourself 
in  his  place,  Mr.  Jack,  and  imagine  yourself 
anxious  that  your  daughter  should  marry  the  man 
of  your  own  choosing,  and  then  conceive  you  were 


170  JACK'S  COUETSHIP. 

told  that  during  your  absence  she  had  been  fre- 
quently in  the  company  of  a  young  stranger  who 
did  not  disguise  that  he  was  in  love  with  her,  I  am 
sure  you  would  wish  to  terminate  the  intimacy  by 
desiring  her  not  to  call  upon  the  family  whilst  the 
young  man  continues  in  their  house  as  a  guest." 

" I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  I.  "I  do  not 
blame  Mr.  Hawke." 

"  Mind  !  I  do  not  excuse  his  views  of  marriage," 
she  continued.  "  I  consider  his  anxiety  to  marry 
his  child  to  a  man  she  does  not  like  odious.  I  am 
only  trying  to  justify  his  behaviour  so  far  as  we,  or 
rather  so  far  as  you,  are  concerned,  mortifying  as 
it  is  to  us." 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  him  to  dinner,"  said  my 
uncle,  laughing.  "  D'ye  remember  my  saying  that 
he  wouldn't  come  ?  He's  done  more — he's  gone 
leagues  ahead  of  my  prophecy !  Oh,  he's  an  old 
fool !  "  and  he  smoked  his  pipe  vehemently. 

"I  am  extremely  vexed,"  said  I,  addressing  my 
aunt,  "  that  I  should  have  been  the  means  of  sub- 
jecting you  to  this  annoyance." 

"  It's  no  annoyance,"  called  out  my  uncle. 
"  The  girls  liked  Florence,  and  she's  still  their 
friend.     There's  nothing  to  bother  over." 

"It  is  perfectly  true,"  I  continued,  "that  I  am 
in  love  with  Miss  Hawke.  It  would  be  ridiculous 
in  me  to  attempt  to  conceal  what  you  can  all  see. 
But  Mr.  Hawke  must  surely  have  a  great  deal  of 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  171 

the  Turk  as  well  as  the  prig  in  his  nature  to 
forbid  her,  so  to  speak,  to  unveil  her  face  to  any 
man  but  the  person  he  wants  her  to  marry.  If 
she  can  endure  discipline  of  that  kind,  she  has  not 
the  spirit  I  want  to  believe  she  has." 

"  Just  my  opinion,  Jack — what  I  said  when 
Sophie  gave  us  the  news,"  said  my  uncle. 

"He  was  annoyed  by  the  marked  attention  you 
paid  Florence  last  night,"  said  my  aunt. 

"Yes;  and  by  her  liking  it,"  observed  my 
uncle. 

"If,"  said  my  aunt,  "  your  manner,  Mr.  Jack, 
had  not  been  so  pronounced — if  my  husband  had 
not,  as  I  must  say,  rather  foolishly  yielded  Miss 
Hawke  to  you  by  pretending  to  mistake  the 
daughter  he  was  asked  to  give  his  arm  to,  there 
would  have  been  no  grounds  for  Mr.  Hawke's 
suspicions,  and  he  would  not  have  said  anything 
to  Florence  about  her  visits  here.  It  is  ridiculous 
to  imagine  he  would  act  in  this  manner  to  all 
young  men  and  the  families  they  might  be  staying 
with.  But,  unfortunately,  he  had  only  to  com- 
bine my  husband's  deliberate  mistake  with  your 
behaviour  to  his  daughter,  to  suspect  even  more 
than  was  intended.  I  mean,  he  would  believe  your 
uncle  was  playing  into  your  hands,  and  had  asked 
you  down  in  the  hope  of  your  securing  Florence  as 
a  wife." 

"  A  good  job  too  !  "  said  my  uncle.     "I  respect 


172  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

loyalty  in  relations,  and  heartily  hope  that's  his 
notion.  Why  shouldn't  I  find  my  brother  Tom's 
son  a  pretty  heiress  for  a  helpmate  ?  Isn't  he  good 
enough  for  Florence  Hawke  ?  " 

"That's  not  the  point,  Charles,"  replied  my 
aunt. 

"  Anyway,"  continued  my  uncle,  "  you  may  take 
it  that  Florence  don't  think  herself  too  good  for 
Jack.  What  do  you  think,  nephew  ?  There's  a 
meaning  in  her  hurrying  round  here  this  morning 
to  pour  her  yarn  about  her  papa's  severity  into 
Sophie's  ear,  which  I  should  take  to  my  heart  and 
cuddle  if  I  were  twenty-five  years  old,  single,  and 
her  admirer.  And  does  the  old  fellow  really  sup- 
pose he  is  going  the  right  way  to  work  to  make  his 
daughter  do  what  he  wants  ?  What  fools  there 
are  in  this  world  !  " 

"  There  is  only  one  way,"  said  I,  addressing 
my  aunt,  "  of  pleasantly  ending  this  unfortunate 
affair." 

"  Not  by  giving  Florence  up — surely  ?  "  cried  my 
uncle. 

"The  condition,"  I  went  on,  "is  that  Miss 
Hawke  is  only  to  cease  visiting  you  whilst  I  remain 
your  guest." 

"Oh,  excuse  me,  Mr.  Jack,"  cried  my  aunt, 
lifting  up  her  hands ;  "  there  are  two  sides  to 
that  condition.  We  shall  always  be  glad  to  see 
Florence  ;  but  after  what  has  passed,  none  of  us — 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  173 

I  speak  of  my  own  particular  family — could  ever 
dream  of  calling  on  the  Hawkes  again !  " 

"  At  all  events,"  said  I,  "  the  condition,  so  far 
as  Miss  Hawke  is  concerned,  relates  to  me,  and  me 
only.  I  will  not  say  I  have  already  trespassed 
upon  your  kindness " 

"  None  of  that !  "  bawled  my  uncle. 

"I  mean  this,"  said  I;  "it  is  out  of  the  question 
that  Miss  Hawke  can  be  debarred  from  visiting  you 
by  me.     I  must  therefore  leave  you." 

"  When  ?  "  said  my  uncle. 

"To-day." 

"  By  what  train  ?  " 

"  By  no  train  at  all.  I  have  taken  lodgings  in 
Bristol." 

My  aunt  looked  startled,  my  uncle  incredulous. 

"  Taken  lodgings  in  Bristol !  "  cried  he.  "  When 
did  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  Just  now." 

He  turned  to  his  wife  and  stared  at  her.  "  Well," 
said  he,  drawing  a  deep  breath,  "  Jack's  a  darned 
modest  fellow,  anyhow." 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  in  earnest,"  said  my  aunt, 
whose  kind  heart  did  not  at  all  relish  this  new 
posture  in  me,  although  she  might  consider  I  was 
acting  very  properly. 

"I  am  indeed,"  I  replied.  "  I  have  hired  a 
couple  of  rooms,  and  remove  there  this  evening. 
After  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me,  it  is  painful 


174  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

to  be  forced  to  leave  you  in  this  fashion.  But  I 
know  my  duty.  Mr.  Hawke  shall  have  no  further 
excuse  to  deprive  his  daughter  of  my  cousins' 
society.  Besides,  I  must  not  forget  I  have  already 
been  here  a  fortnight,  and  I  never  intended  to 
inflict  my  society  upon  you  for  a  longer  term." 

My  uncle  sat  listening  and  looking  at  me  with 
his  head  on  one  side,  his  right  eye  half  closed,  and 
his  face  full  of  thought.  I  had  fully  expected  an 
explosion  of  affronted  cordiality,  of  indignant  hos- 
pitality, and  was  therefore  not  a  little  surprised  to 
find  him  silent  and  contemplative.  It  was  my 
aunt  who  expostulated,  and  I  must  say  she  tried 
hard  to  induce  me  to  prolong  my  visit.  She  said 
that  whether  I  went  or  whether  I  stayed  could  not 
in  the  least  degree  alter  matters  now.  She  heartily 
hoped  there  had  been  nothing  in  her  manner  to 
cause  me  to  leave.  Since  I  meant  to  stop  in 
Bristol,  she  could  not  understand  why  I  thought 
it  necessary  to  take  lodgings  when  her  house  was 
at  my  service.  To  which  I  replied  that  I  was 
exceedingly  obliged  to  her  for  her  kindness,  and 
that  I  should  part  from  her  with  great  regret  and 
much  gratitude  for  the  hospitality  I  had  received. 

All  this  while  my  uncle  continued  watching  me. 
He  waited  until  my  aunt  had  given  up  trying 
to  coax  me,  and  then  said,  "  Jack,  what  makes 
you  stop  in  Bristol?  Why  don't  you  return  to 
London?" 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  175 

"Because  I  like  the  air  here,"  said  I. 

"  Have  you  given  up  your  town  lodgings  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Can  you  afford  to  keep  two  sets  of  rooms  going 
on  something  under  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
a  year  ?  "  cried  he. 

"  I  must  endeavour  to  do  so,"  I  replied. 

"  Sophia,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  suppose  you  can 
guess  why  Jack  sticks  to  Bristol? " 

"  It  is  not  hard  to  understand,"  she  answered. 

"Well,"  continued  he,  talking  to  her  as  though 
I  were  not  present,  "it  proves  that  he  is  in  earnest. 
And  as  that's  so,  he  ought  not  to  miss  of  our 
encouragement  and  goodwill.  He  knows  Florence 
through  us ;  he  can  charge  us  with  having  shown 
him  the  road  into  this  business ;  and  we're  bound 
not  to  leave  him  up  to  his  waist  in  it,  more 
especially  since  old  Hawke's  behaviour  has  re- 
lieved us  of  all  sense  of  our  duty  towards  our 
neighbour." 

"  Don't  trouble  about  me,"  said  I.  "  If  I  am  up 
to  the  waist  now,  I'll  scramble  out  by-and-by  some- 
how, depend  upon  it." 

My  uncle  left  his  chair  and  walked  about  the 
room,  and  shortly  afterwards  my  aunt  went  away, 
being  signalled  by  him  to  do  so,  as  I  might  judge 
by  the  manner  of  her  going.  When  the  door  was 
closed  upon  her,  my  uncle  asked  me  where  I  had 
taken  lodgings.     I  told  him.     He  then  inquired  at 


176  JACK'S  COUKTSHir. 

what  charge  I  should  be,  and  this  question  also  I 
answered. 

"  You  have  quite  made  up  your  mind  to  leave 
us  ?  "  said  he. 

"  I  have,"  I  replied,  "  and  for  the  reasons  I  have 
given." 

"All  right,"  said  he;  "we'll  say  no  more  on 
that  head.  If  you  had  stayed  we  should  have  been 
glad.  Since  you  icont  stop,  you  must  go.  But 
what  is  your  scheme  ?  what  do  you  hope  to  do 
by  living  in  Bristol  ?  Surely  Florence  isn't  pledged 
to  you,  is  she  ?  Hang  me,  if  I'm  not  in  a  mind 
to  believe  anything !  " 

"I  wish  she  were,"  cried  I.  "Loving  her  as  I 
do — as  she  knows  I  do,  and  I  say  thank  God  for 
that ! — do  you  think  I  could  go  and  put  a  hundred 
miles  of  railway  between  us  ?  I  may  be  acting 
like  a  fool — or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  like  a  very 
young  man;  but  whilst  Miss  Hawke  remains  single 
I  must  keep  near  her,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  her,  of 
meeting  her,  of  talking  to  her,  of  winning  her  love, 
and — and " 

"  Bolting  with  her,  d'ye  mean  ?  "  asked  he. 

I  made  no  answer. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "boil  me  alive,  Jack,  if  you 
don't  deserve  all  the  luck  you  may  get.  Upon  my 
word,  this  business  is  like  one  of  those  romances  I 
used  to  read  when  a  lad,  where  the  heroine  elopes 
with  the  hero  in  a  thunderstorm,  and  returns  with 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  177 

her  husband  after  many  adventures  to  receive  the 
tremulous  blessing  of  her  aged  father  the  Duke." 

Seeing,  however,  that  this  banter  was  not  much 
to  my  taste,  though  I  forced  a  sickly  grin  whilst  he 
talked,  he  grew  serious,  said  that  though  he  did 
not  find  fault  with  me  for  falling  in  love  with 
Florence  Hawke  and  clinging  to  the  place  in 
which  she  lived,  I  ought  not  to  forget  that  my 
prospects,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  were 
exceedingly  small.  For,  first,  I  had  to  make  her 
in  love  with  me — and  had  I  substantial  reasons  for 
supposing  I  could  succeed  ?  Second,  in  order  to 
make  her  in  love  with  me  it  was  necessary  that  we 
should  meet ;  and  how  was  that  to  be  managed 
now  that  I  had  left  his  house  and  was  tabooed  by 
her  father?  Third,  even  if  I  induced  her  to  meet 
me,  and  succeeded  in  gaining  her  love,  did  I  think 
she  was  likely  to  defy  her  father  by  so  bold  and 
reckless  a  step  as  an  elopement  ?  And  if  I  did  not 
suppose  her  capable  of  any  audacious  action  of 
that  kind,  what  ideas  was  I  flattering  myself  with  ? 
He  would  tell  me  this  :  that  unless  I  could  get  her 
to  bolt  with  me  I  should  never  win  her  as  a  wife  ; 
and  since  there  was  no  girl  he  ever  remembered 
meeting  less  likely  to  elope  with  a  man  than 
Florence  Hawke,  he  would  earnestly  advise  me — 
not,  indeed,  to  relinquish  my  pursuit ;  there  was 
no  harm  in  my  taking  lodgings  in  Bristol ;  it  was  a 
healthier  place  than  London  ;  its  temptations  were 

VOL.  I.  n 


178  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

few,  and  I  could  save  money,  but — not  to  allow 
my  hopes  of  success  to  gather  too  much  weight, 
lest  disappointment  should  prove  a  severer  punish- 
ment than  I  had  any  suspicion  of. 

He  talked  to  me,  indeed,  very  much  as  old 
Crusoe  talked  to  young  Eobinson ;  and  as  with 
that  famous  person,  so,  had  I  allowed  my  uncle's 
counsels  to  influence  me,  I  should  have  been  spared 
some  adventures  very  nearly  as  strange  and  sur- 
prising as  those  which  befell  Defoe's  hero — though 
to  be  sure  they  were  not  limited  to  an  uninhabited 
island,  nor  did  they  last,  thank  goodness,  eight 
and  twenty  years. 

After  he  had  eased  his  mind  by  lecturing  me,  my 
uncle  seated  himself  at  a  writing-table,  and  asked 
me  how  long  I  was  likely  to  use  the  lodgings  I  had 
taken.  I  told  him  I  had  no  notion.  "  But  how 
long,"  says  he,  "  d'ye  mean  to  give  yourself  either 
to  win  the  girl  or  drop  all  thoughts  of  her  ? "  I 
replied  that  there  was  no  good  in  asking  me  ques- 
tions of  that  kind,  as  it  was  impossible  for  me  to 
answer  them. 

"  Do  you  reckon,"  says  he,  "  on  stopping  in 
Bristol  six  months  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  I,  laughing  at  his  importuning  me 
in  this  manner,  "  I  ought  pretty  well  to  know 
where  I  am  at  the  end  of  six  months." 

On  this  he  pulled  open  a  drawer  and  took  out  a 
cheque-book ;  and  after  making  some  calculations 


I   TAKE   LODGINGS.  179 

-on  a  piece  of  paper,  lie  filled  up  a  cheque  and 
handed  it  to  me. 

"There,  my  boy,"  said  he,  "put  that  in  your 
pocket.     I'll  pay  for  six  months'  lodging." 

I  looked  at  the  cheque  and  saw  that  it  was  for 
fifty  pounds.  I  was  taken  plump  aback  by  his 
kindness,  and  for  some  moments  could  only  look 
stupidly  at  the  cheque.  I  then  put  it  on  the  table, 
told  him  that  I  had  no  words  to  thank  him  for  his 
generosity,  but  that  I  was  not  in  want  of  money, 
and  was  very  well  able  to  support  such  expenses  as 
I  was  likely  to  bring  upon  myself.  What  followed 
came  very  near  to  being  a  quarrel.  He  called  me  an 
ungrateful  young  son  of  a  cook.  Had  I  not  assured 
him  that  nothing  but  Mr.  Hawke's  instructions  to 
Florence  drove  me  away  ?  I  answered  yes.  Then, 
he  wanted  to  know,  what  right  had  I  to  insult  him 
fusing  to  remain  his  guest  on  my  own  terms  ? 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  I. 

"  Why,  man,"  cried  he,  "  don't  you  see  that,  as 
you  say  you  can't  be  comfortable  in  this  house 
owing  to  Alphonso  Hawke's  orders  to  his  daughter, 
I'm  taking  lodgings  for  you  in  the  neighbourhood, 
keeping  you  as  a  sort  of  out-door  guest ;  and  that 
instead  of  paying  your  landlady  myself  I  am 
asking  you  to  pa}'  her  for  me  ?  Can't  you  under- 
stand that,  you  swab  ?  " 

••Yes,"  I  replied;  "but  I'm  hanged  if  I'm  a 
swab  !  " 


180  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  How's  that  ? — not  a  swab  !  "  cried  he.  "  Were 
you  not,  would  you  be  so  thick  and  flabby  in  your 
intellects  as  to  offer  to  pay  a  gentleman  whose 
guest  you  are  for  your  own  keep  ?  Take  that 
cheque,  man,  and  let's  have  no  more  jaw." 

As  it  was  certain  that  he  would  have  resented 
any  further  refusal  of  it  as  an  affront,  I  put  the 
cheque  in  my  pocket,  thanking  him  as  heartily  for 
his  kindness  as  the  temper  I  was  in  by  being  called 
a  son  of  a  cook  and  a  swab  would  suffer.  How- 
ever, as  you  may  suppose,  this  fit  of  irritation  did 
not  last  long.  Indeed,  I  should  have  deserved  very 
much  harder  names  than  my  uncle  had  bestowed 
on  me  had  I  not  appreciated  the  fatherly  goodwill 
he  was  showing  me.  And  though  I  had  talked  as 
if  I  did  not  want  the  money,  give  me  leave  to  say 
that  in  the  depths  of  my  soul  I  found  it  a  mighty 
acceptable  gift,  and  that,  trifling  as  the  sum  was. 
it  distinctly  heartened  me  up  and  made  me  take  a 
cheerfuller  view  of  the  extraordinary  waiting-job  I 
had  set  myself;  so  magical  is  the  influence  of 
vulgar  dross  upon  the  mind  even  when  wholly 
occupied  by  sentiment. 

I  sent  my  luggage  down  into  Bristol  by  Cobb 
the  man-servant,  with  a  message  to  the  landlady 
that  I  would  arrive  at  her  house  between  nine  and 
ten  o'clock.  "  And,  Cobb,"  said  I  to  the  man,  "be 
good  enough  to  tell  her  to  buy  me  a  bottle  of 
cognac  and  put  it  on  the    table  along  with  some 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  181 

soda-water ;  "  for,  to  speak  the  truth,  after  the 
music,  the  conversation,  the  company  of  my  rela- 
tions and  friends,  the  pleasant  evenings  I  had 
passed  at  my  uncle's  house,  winding  up  with 
cigars,  iced  drinks,  moonlight  wanderings  among 
the  trees,  and  the  like,  I  recoiled  from  the  prospect 
of  the  loneliness  of  the  first  night  in  the  little 
lodgings,  and  foresaw  the  necessity  of  some  pro- 
vision against  low  spirits.  If  there  be  any  teeto- 
tallers among  you,  don't  be  shocked.  I  do  not 
know  that  in  all  my  life,  mates,  I  ever  took  a 
thimbleful  more  of  grog  than  my  head  could  carry ; 
but  I'll  tell  you  this — there  have  been  occasions 
when  a  well-timed  glass  of  liquor  has  served  me 
better  than  a  clap  on  the  back  or  a  handshake — at 
sea,  look  you,  where,  after  twelve  hours  of  heart- 
breaking work  with  the  pumps  or  up  aloft,  nothing 
but  the  caulker  of  rum  served  out  under  the  break 
of  the  poop  by  the  light  of  a  bull's-eye  lamp  could 
have  furnished  me  with  physical  force  enough  to 
crawl  up  the  rigging  for  the  twentieth  time  to  help 
the  others  to  stow  the  remnants  of  what  had  been 
a  brand-new  close-reefed  sail. 

When  Sophie  and  Amelia  returned  from  making 
their  visits,  and  were  told  that  I  had  lined  lodgings 
in  Bristol  and  meant  to  quit  their  house  for  good 
that  evening,  they  stared  at  me  as  if  I  had  taken 
leave  of  my  senses.  My  aunt,  my  uncle,  and  I 
were  in  the  drawing-room  killing  a  half-hour  before 


182  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

dinner  when  the  girls  came  in,  and  I  see  them  now, 
fat,  amazed,  agitated,  as  my  aunt  said,  "  Sophie, 
Amelia,  what  do  you  think?  Mr.  Jack  has  taken 
apartments  in  Bristol,  and  is  going  to  them  this 
evening.  In  fact,  he  actually  sleeps  in  them  to- 
night ;  so  that  we  lose  him  with  wonderful  sudden- 
ness," says  she,  nodding  fast  as  she  spoke. 

A  variety  of  exclamations  broke  from  the  girls  : 
"Apartments  in  Bristol ! "  "  Going  this  evening! " 
"  Sleeps  there  to-night !  " 

Here  I  cried,  "  Don't  you  think  I  am  better  than 
a  circulating  library  ?  What  novel  can  approach 
the  sensation  I  cause  by  my  movements  ?  " 

"  But  why  are  you  leaving,  Jack?  "  said  Sophie. 
""What  has  happened?  "  and  she  ran  her  eyes  over 
her  papa  and  mamma,  in  search,  maybe,  of  the 
traces  of  a  recent  quarrel ;  for  the  dear  creature 
had  never  dreamt  for  a  moment  that  I  was  in 
earnest  when  I  told  her  it  was  my  duty  to  clear 
out  of  the  house.  My  aunt  up  and  spoke ;  related 
my  reason  for  going,  with  all  the  garnishing  that  a 
woman's  fluent  tongue  could  furnish  to  a  simple 
yarn,  and  wound  up  by  a  fresh  and  rather  wild 
appeal  to  me  to  reconsider  my  decision  and  not  be 
foolish. 

"It's  too  late — everything's  settled;  let  us  have 
no  more  of  this,  Sophia,'  growled  my  uncle,  casting, 
nevertheless,  a  somewhat  admiring  eye  upon  his 
wife,  in  whose  cheeks  the  heat  of  her  own  volu- 


I  TAKE  LODGINGS.  183 

bility  and  energy  of  gesticulation  had  kindled 
a  bright  colour,  and  who,  what  with  her  well- 
fitting  dress,  long  train,  fine  figure,  thick  hair 
(every  scrap  of  it  her  own,  my  uncle  once  assured 
me),  good  teeth,  and  shining  eyes,  looked,  I  am 
bound  to  say,  uncommonly  handsome,  and  twenty 
years  too  young  to  be  the  mother  of  the  two 
plump,  full-grown  women  who  stood  listening  to 
her,  lost  in  wonder  and  ingenuous  excitement.  I 
really  could  not  help  feeling  flattered  when  I 
observed  the  annoyance  and  disappointment  my 
cousins  showed  on  discovering  that  it  was  all  true 
— that  I  had  taken  lodgings  and  was  quitting  their 
roof  in  a  few  hours.  They  had  a  sisterly  affection 
for  me ;  besides,  they  might  have  found  it  nice  to 
have  a  young  man  in  the  house,  not  offensively 
ugly  as  men  go,  a  young  fellow  to  drive  with,  to 
introduce,  to  be  seen  with. 

"  I  should  certainly,  if  I  were  you,  Jack,"  said 
Sophie,  eyeing  me  (bless  her  !)  almost  tearfully, 
"be  above  allowing  Mr.  Hawke  to  drive  you  away 
from  your  relatives,  who,  you  well  know,  are  very 
glad  to  have  you  with  them." 

"  Unless,  indeed,  Jack  is  tired  of  us  and  wants 
to  regain  the  independence  which  only  lodgings 
can  confer,  so  men  say,"  observed  Amelia,  whose 
satire  was  neutralized  by  her  corpulence  and 
excessively  good-natured  face  as  fast  as  it  flowed. 

However,  my  uncle,  who  was  sick  of  the  subject 


18<±  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

— and  small  blame  to  him — begged  bis  daughters 
to  say  no  more  about  it ;  Jack  meant  to  go ;  he 
knew  his  own  business  best ;  let  him  then,  in  the 
name  of  peace,  depart  without  any  more  argu- 
ments. So,  in  compliance  with  his  request,  we 
changed  the  conversation  and  presently  went  to 
dinner,  which,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  after  a 
cheerful  exterior  and  sprightly  observations,  was 
so  dull,  flat,  and  melancholy  a  meal  that  anybody 
might  have  supposed  we  were  only  lingering  over 
funeral  refreshments  until  the  hearse  and  the 
mourning  coaches  drove  up.  Sophie,  who  was 
full  of  my  going,  tried  several  times  to  start  me 
as  a  topic,  making  sundry  feints  by  vague  questions 
and  observations  about  the  Hawkes  ;  but  she  was 
regularly  parried  and  dealt  with  by  her  papa,  who 
forced  her  to  retire  with  confusion ;  until  at  last 
there  seemed  to  dawn  upon  us  all  the  conviction 
that  any  further  references  to  my  departure  would 
be  in  bad  taste.  But  after  dinner,  and  when  my 
uncle  and  I  had  been  sitting  together  for  a  short 
time,  the  window  being  open,  I  spied  Sophie  out- 
side flitting  about  in  the  gloom.  I  was  anxious  to 
have  a  few  words  with  her  before  going,  so  I 
stepped  on  to  the  lawn. 

Sophie  instantly  began  :  "  When  did  you  take 
the  apartments,  Jack?  " 

"  This  morning,"  I  replied. 

"You  told  me  you  were  going  to  look  at  the 


I   TAKE  LODGINGS.  185 

city  docks.  Why  didn't  you  explain  your  real 
motive  ?  "  said  she,  reproachfully. 

"Because,"  I  answered,  "  I  wanted  to  make  my 
arrangements  before  speaking,  so  that  I  might  be 
able  to  say  it  is  too  late  when  you  all,  in  your 
great  kindness,  should,  as  I  knew  you  would,  try  to 
persuade  me  to  remain  here." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  persuade  you,"  said  she. 
"  But  what  good  can  you  do  in  lodgings  ?  You 
are  much  less  likely  to  see  Florence  than  were 
you  to  stop  with  us." 

"  Ay,  Sophie  ;  but  will  you  tell  me  how  long  in 
decency  I  ought  to  go  on  burdening  you  with  my 
company  ?" 

"As  long  as  ever  you  like,"  said  she.  "You 
know  it  is  no  burden.  We  are  delighted  to  have 
you." 

"Yes;  but  that  does  not  render  it  the  more 
proper  in  me  to  encroach  on  your  kindness.  Now, 
in  lodgings  I  can  take  my  time.  I  can  never  be 
embarrassed  by  the  feeling  that  I  am  trespassing. 
Besides,  I  shall  be  as  comfortable  in  Bristol  as  in 
London." 

"  But  what  do  you  mean  to  do  ?  You  can't  call 
on  Florence.     Do  you  expect  her  to  call  on  yotiP  " 

"  I  am  full  of  expectation,"  I  replied.  "  And 
why  ?  because  I  have  you  as  a  friend,  Sophie.  I 
can  count  upon  your  sympathy ;  I  feel  that  I  can 
rely  upon  your  affection  for  your  foolish  young 


186  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

cousin  to  help  him  in  his  love  for  your  beautiful, 
your  adorable  friend." 

I  seized  her  plump  hand ;  and  indeed,  boys,  it 
was  just  the  sort  of  night  for  sentimental  twaddle 
— warm,  dark,  the  stars  large  and  luminous,  the 
atmosphere  breathless,  the  stillness  full  of  fra- 
grance, with  now  and  again  the  notes  of  a  clarion- 
tongued  bird  coming  out  of  the  deeper  darkness 
where  the  trees  were — I  seized  her  plurnp  hand, 
I  tell  you,  pressed  and  fondled  it,  and  she  laughed, 
low  and  gratefully,  a  laugh  full  of  relish  and  satis- 
faction. Upon  my  word,  when  I  look  back,  it  does 
not  gratify  my  vanity  to  think  that  she  was  not 
desperately  in  love  with  me :  for  in  my  thankful- 
ness for  her  sympathy  and  kindness,  and  with  the 
image  of  Florence  always  in  my  mind's  eye,  I 
would  talk  to  her  so  sentimentally,  caress  her 
hand,  breathe  in  her  ear  and  the  like,  that  there 
would  have  been  little  to  wonder  at  had  she  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  other  girl  was  only  an 
excuse,  and  that  it  was  she  I  adored. 

"  So  far  as  Amelia  and  I  are  concerned,  we  will 
do  all  that  we  can  to  help  you,  Jack,"  said  she. 
■'  But  understand  :  we  can  do  nothing  unless  we 
discover  that  Florence  thinks  of  you,  and  likes  to 
hear  of  you.  We'll  carry  letters  and  messages 
between  }^ou  as  often  as  may  be  wanted ;  and  I, 
for  one,  shall  take  a  particular  delight  to  do  what 
I  can  to  put  3Tou  in  the  place  young  Mr.  More- 


I  TAKE   LODGINGS.  187 

combe  wants  to  fill,  and  to  thwart  Mr.  Hawke — 
for  I  quite  hate  that  old  man  now.  But  if  Florence 
is  cold  about  you,  if  she  should  not  like  to  be 
reminded  of  you,  we  shall  be  unable  to  help ;  for 
you  know,  Jack,  that  men  cannot  make  love  by 
proxy,  unless  they  happen  to  be  kings." 

"Don't  discourage  me,"  said  I,  "on  the  very 
threshold.  I  don't  ask  you  to  make  love  to  her 
for  me,  but  you  might,  when  you  meet  her " 

"I  shall  meet  her  often,  I  hope;  and  I  shall 
speak  to  her  as  often  as  we  meet,  unless  she  is 
with  her  father,"  interrupted  Sophie. 

"I  say,  no  harm  could  come  from  your  telling 
her  how  devoted  I  am,  how  deeply  I  love  her,  and 
why  I  have  left  Clifton,  and  why  I  cannot  leave 
Bristol." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  Jack ;  I  can  tell  her  that,  and 
a  great  deal  more ;  and  if  she  is  fond  of  you  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  tell  her  too  much,  and  you 
shall  know  all  that  she  says  about  you  exactly — 
good  or  bad ;  so  that  you  will  be  able  to  decide 
whether  to  go  on  lingering  in  lodgings  in  Bristol, 
or  return  here,  or  go  back  to  London." 

"And  Sophie,  my  darling,"  said  I,  "if  you  find 
that  she  doesn't  give  my  name  the  cold  shoulder, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  is  pleased  to  hear  you  talk 
about  me,  I  suppose  to  a  girl  possessed  of  your 
cleverness,  it  would  not  be  quite  impossible  to 
arrange  an  accidental  meeting — you  know  what  I 


188  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

mean — a  chance  encounter  somewhere,  where  trees 
are  plentiful,  and  people  few — eh,  Sophie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  very  easily  managed,"  said  she,  in 
a  voice  of  contempt  that  was  like  a  dram  to  my 
spirits.  "  If  Florence  is  willing,  there  can  be  no 
limit  to  what  may  be  clone.  It  will  entirely  depend 
upon  her,  not  upon  Amelia's  and  my  good  wishes — 
so  please  bear  that  in  mind." 

"  When  will  you  call  upon  me?" 

"To-morrow  morning,  just  to  see  what  sort  of 
lodgings  you  have.  You  will  please  leave  us  your 
address.    And  how  often  will  you  come  to  see  us  ?  " 

"Very  often,  depend  upon  it." 

"  Because,"  said  she,  making  her  manner  im- 
pressive by  wagging  her  forefinger  at  me — the 
starlight  and  the  illumination  from  the  lower 
windows  rendered  us  plainly  visible  to  each  other 
— "the  oftener  you  come  the  oftener  you  are  likely 
to  meet  Florence  without  obliging  us  to  invent  any 
stratagems.  To-morrow  morning  I  shall  write  to 
Florence  and  tell  her  that  you  have  left  Clifton, 
and  beg  her  to  acquaint  her  father  with  the  fact, 
that  he  may  withdraw  his  orders  to  her  to  dis- 
continue her  visits  here.  I  shall  make  my  letter 
sarcastic,  and  ask  her  in  a  postcript  to  read  it  to 
Mr.  Hawke." 

I  was  about  to  beg  her  to  do  nothing  of  the 
kind,  lest  the  old  man  should  take  it  as  a  new 
affront,  and  base  further  injunctions  to  his  daughter 


I   TAKE   LODGINGS.  189 

upon  it,  when  my  uncle,  coming  to  the  window, 
bawled  out :  "  Are  there  burglars  yonder  ?  "Who's 
that  mum,  mum,  mumming  there  ?  Are  the  bees 
still  abroad  ?  or  has  a  sick  cow  strayed  into  these 
grounds  to  die?  Sophie,  is  that  you?"  She 
answered  "Yes."  "Without  any  head-gear  on? 
D'ye  know  the  dew  falls  like  a  thunder-squall? 
Come  in,  come  in,  and  bring  the  melancholy  Jack- 
anapes with  you." 

This  ended  our  confab,  and  half  an  hour  after- 
wards I  stood  in  the  hall  shaking  hands  all  round, 
and  saying  good-night  and  good-bye. 

"You  understand,  Jack,"  said  my  uncle,  "that 
it's  only  a  shift  of  premises.  You're  still  our 
guest." 

"  A  knife  and  fork  will  always  be  laid  for  you," 
said  my  aunt :  "  and  your  bedroom  kept  ready, 
so  that  we  shall  require  no  notice  of  your  return." 

"  You  are  very  foolish  to  go,  Jack ;  but  there's 
no  reasoning  with  men,"  exclaimed  Amelia  ;  and 
Sophie,  as  she  squeezed  my  hand,  mumbled  in  a 
whisper  that  I  might  count  upon  her. 

"God  bless  you  all!  and  thanks,"  said  I:  and 
lurching  through  the  hall-door  I  gained  the  high- 
way and  stepped  out  for  my  lodgings  in  Bristol. 


190  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

MY   BRISTOL   LODGINGS. 

The  first  night  in  new  lodgings  when  you  are  alone 
and  in  a  strange  town  does  not  always  make  a 
pleasant  memory.  Nothing  fits :  the  armchair  is 
too  big  or  too  little ;  the  bed-mattrass  is  too  hard 
or  too  soft ;  the  washstand  is  in  the  wrong  corner  ; 
the  toilet  tablet-table  is  in  the  road  of  the  window  ; 
and  the  inhospitality  of  things  new  to  your  habits 
is  oppressive.  In  London  the  feeling  that  my 
home  was  a  lodging  had  been  sunk  by  custom ; 
but  the  sense  came  up  in  me  very  strong  when 
I  reached  my  Bristol  apartments,  and  stood  in 
the  bit  of  a  sitting-room,  contrasting  it  with  my 
uncle's  home,  and  gazing  vacantly  at  the  table, 
on  which  were  a  bottle  of  brandy,  a  bottle  of  soda- 
water,  and  a  corkscrew,  upon  a  cheap  brand-new 
tray.  I  heard  a  man's  voice  rumbling  under  my 
feet,  and  there  was  a  smell  of  coarse  tobacco 
about;  and  when  I  cast  my  eyes  around,  and 
beheld   no  books,   no  intellectual   solace    of   any 


MY  BRISTOL   LODGINGS.  191 

kind  outside  the  prints,  which  were  speedily  to 
be  exhausted,  whether  as  diversions  or  as  moral 
instructors,  I  felt  very  lonely  indeed,  and  sat  me 
down  in  the  stiff-backed,  hair-covered  armchair 
that  stood  nakedly  confronting  the  frigid  black 
grate  and  its  bleak  furniture  of  fender  and  irons, 
with  a  misgiving  upon  me  that  I  was  acting  very 
much  like  a  donkey. 

Mrs.  Chump  broke  in  upon  my  musings  by 
asking  at  what  time  I  wanted  to  be  called  in  the 
morning,  and  what  I  wished  for  breakfast.  Called 
in  the  morning !  what  was  there  to  get  up  for  ? 
and  wish  for  breakfast  ?  there  was  not  a  phantom 
of  a  wish  of  the  kind  in  me.  But  I  was  bound 
to  give  her  an  answer,  so  I  muttered  something 
about  eggs  and  bacon  and  half-past  eight,  and 
then  pulled  the  cork  out  of  the  brandy-bottle  and 
filled  a  pipe. 

However,  I  cheered  niyself  up  after  a  bit  by 
considering  that  first  of  all  I  had  acted  as  any 
gentleman  would  in  relieving  my  uncle's  house 
of  a  guest  that  had  set  two  families  by  the  ears ; 
next,  that  when  Florence  Hawke  came  to  hear 
that  I  could  not  tear  myself  away  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  was  living  lonesomely  in  lodgings 
for  her  sake,  she  would  find  a  good  deal  in  the  news 
to  persuade  her  that  I  was  very  honestly  in  love. 
And  then  I  reflected  that  I  had  two  most  emotional 
champions   and   allies   in  my   cousins,   in  whose 


192  JACK'S  COUETSHIP. 

loyalty  and  love  of  romance  I  might  have  the 
utmost  confidence ;  and  I  also  consoled  myself 
by  thinking  that,  though  I  might  have  prolonged 
my  stay  at  my  uncle's  without  risk  of  being 
thought  an  intruder,  the  time  must  certainly 
arrive  when  my  sense  of  propriety  would  oblige 
me  to  leave  his  house  ;  so  that,  since  I  was  deter- 
mined to  keep  near  Florence,  I  had  only  antici- 
pated my  departure  by  a  week  or  two  by  coming 
to  these  lodgings  at  once. 

I  often  recall  myself  sitting  in  that  little  room, 
smoking  my  pipe,  my  mind  labouring  under  a 
crowd  of  thought  like  a  hard-pressed  ship  in  a 
seaway.  Nathaniel  Hawthorne  has  a  story  in 
one  of  his  books  of  a  man's  conscience  standing 
behind  him  and  giving  him  a  dig  with  a  sharp 
knife  from  time  to  time  as  it  holds  up  pictures 
of  his  early  life  to  his  face.  I,  who  write  this 
in  middle  age,  stand  in  fancy  alongside  that  arm- 
chair, and  look  at  my  foolish  young  self  as  I 
sit  with  my  legs  crossed,  blowing  out  smoke,  some- 
times grinning  over  a  hope,  sometimes  scowling- 
over  a  misgiving,  and  very  often  hauling  out  Miss 
Florence's  portrait  from  a  side  pocket  to  gaze  at 
it  and  kiss  it.  Even  then  I  thought  the  adventure 
I  had  embarked  on  a  queer  one,  with  little  meaning 
in  it,  and  yet  not  destitute  of  a  kind  of  nebula  of 
an  idea  either.  But  what  must  I  think  now, 
looking  as  I  do,   so  to  speak,  through  the  other 


MY  BRISTOL  LODGINGS.  193 

end  of  the  telescope,  and  recall  the  amazing  ex- 
periences to  which  my  sojourn  at  Clifton  and 
Bristol  was  merely  a  tender,  uneventful  intro- 
duction ?  Would  I  go  through  it  again  ?  Can 
I  conceive  of  any  woman  so  divine,  so  stately, 
so  majestical,  so  lily-white,  so  bland,  so  all  the 
rest  of  it,  as  to  seduce  me  into  putting  to  sea 
for  her  lovely  and  noble  sake,  and  getting  ship- 
wrecked ?  What  say  ye,  mariners  ?  Is  there  any 
woman  worth  being  shipwrecked  for — not  in  a 
commercial  sense,  but  literally,  amid  a  storm  of 
wind,  in  the  trough  of  a  raging  ocean,  when  the 
lightning  makes  a  hell  of  the  sooty  sky,  and  the 
yelling  of  the  hurricane  mingling  with  the  cries 
of  the  drowning  sounds  like  the  voices  of  fiends 
triumphing  over  the  agonies  of  the  damned  ? 
Answer  that,  my  lively  hearties,  if  so  be  that  you 
know  what  it  is  to  be  shipwrecked. 

I  turned  in  shortly  before  twelve,  and  reckoned 
upon  a  tossing  night :  instead  of  which  I  fell  sound 
asleep,  and  never  opened  my  eyes  until  Mrs. 
Chump  rapped  upon  the  door.  My  lodgings  were 
in  a  street,  and  when  I  rose  to  shave  myself,  the 
look-out  over  the  way  formed  a  very  depressing 
contrast  with  the  bright  fresh  scene  of  trees  and 
flowers  I  had  every  morning  gazed  at  from  my 
bedroom  in  my  uncle's  house.  Nevertheless,  I 
felt  on  the  whole  pretty  lively,  and  was  in  a 
temper  to  take  a  cheerfuller  view  of  my  conduct 

vol.  r.  o 


194  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

and  resolutions  than  my  spirits  had  allowed  me  on 
the  previous  night.  The  street  gave  me  but  a 
narrow  horizon ;  but  the  sky  was  to  be  seen  over- 
head, and  my  mood  perhaps  came  to  me  from 
the  radiancy  and  life  of  it ;  for  there  was  a  strong 
breeze  of  wind  blowing,  and  clouds,  like  bursts  of 
cannon-smoke,  white  and  gleaming,  were  sailing 
across  the  blue  in  stately  processions,  and  the 
dancing  sunshine  seemed  like  a  kind  of  laughter 
upon  the  face  of  the  world. 

When  I  arrived  at  the  little  parlour  under  my 
bedroom  I  found  breakfast  ready ;  and  though  it 
was  but  a  modest  repast,  yet  what  cooking  there 
was  in  it  was  up  to  the  hammer,  the  coffee  excellent, 
everything  clean,  a  nosegay  in  a  tumbler  in  the 
middle  of  the  table,  and  a  local  newspaper  damp 
and  flat  lying  upon  the  napkin.  Trifling  as  these 
matters  are  to  mention,  I  found  them  reconciling, 
and  when  I  had  breakfasted  and  stowed  myself 
away  in  the  armchair — there  was  but  one — with  a 
pipe  in  my  mouth  and  the  newspaper  in  my  hand, 
I  could  not  help  reflecting  that,  even  if  I  viewed 
this  freak  as  no  more  than  a  holiday  jaunt,  I  could 
not  have  chosen  a  brighter  scene  than  Bristol,  with 
its  docks  and  its  picturesque  old  houses,  and  the 
river  winding  through  the  streets,  and  the  noble 
Clifton  scenery  close  at  hand. 

Sophie  had  promised  to  call,  and  I  remained  in 
my  lodgings  the  whole  morning  for  fear  of  missing 


MY   BRISTOL  LODGINGS.  195 

her.  A  mighty  long  morning  it  was  :  hut  an  end 
was  made  of  it  shortly  before  noon  by  a  hearty 
knock  on  the  door,  and  my  cousins  were  announced 
by  the  landlady.  They  looked  around  them, 
evidently  amused  by  the  size  of  the  room;  and 
I  confess  that  when  they  were  seated  it  seemed 
to  have  shrunk  to  half  its  real  dimensions,  owing, 
no  doubt,  to  its  being  pretty  well  filled  by  the  two 
fat  girls  and  myself.  They  asked  me  how  I  had  slept, 
whether  I  was  likely  to  be  comfortable,  whether 
my  love  for  Florence  was  going  to  be  proof  against 
the  loneliness  of  the  lodger's  life,  and  so  forth. 
When  I  say  they,  I  mean  it  was  chiefly  Amelia  who 
asked  these  questions,  for  there  was  often  a  little 
touch  of  banter  in  her  as  if  she  never  thoroughly 
gave  me  credit  for  earnestness ;  whilst  Sophie,  on 
the  other  hand,  would  always  return  sigh  for  sigh 
and  echo  groan  for  groan.  They  had  no  news  to 
give  me.  They  had  merely  called  to  see  what  sort 
of  apartments  I  had  taken,  and  to  know  if  I  would 
dine  with  them  that  evening. 

"No,"  said  I ;  "do  not  tempt  me.  I  want  to 
inure  myself  to  solitude.  I  want  to  accustom 
myself  to  my  own  company ;  unless,  indeed " 

Sophie  understood  me.  "No,"  said  she,  "you 
will  not  see  Florence." 

i:  Have  you  written  to  her  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  putting  her  hand  in  her 
pocket ;    "and  here  is  her  reply."      She  gave  me 


19G  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

a  little  cocked-hat  note,  the  counterpart  of  the  one 
I  possessed.  It  was  dated  10.30,  proving  that 
Sophie  had  written  very  early  indeed,  and  that 
Miss  Hawke  had  replied  immediately.  The  little 
missive  trembled  in  my  hand  as  I  read  : 

"Dearest  Sophie, 

"  Papa  is  out,  so  I  must  wait  to  tell  him 
that  your  cousin  Jack  has  left  you.  I  shall  not  read 
your  letter  to  him,  as  there  is  really  no  reason 
why  he  should  know  that  your  cousin  has  taken 
apartments  in  Bristol.  The  whole  thing  is  quite 
absurd  enough  as  it  is.  I  hope  to  see  you  soon  ; 
and  I  trust,  dear,  this  foolish  anxiety  about  me 
on  papa's  part  will  not  prevent  you  from  calling 
— as  on  my  side,  I  certainly  do  not  intend  to  let  it 
estrange  us.  I  am  very  much  ashamed  that  I 
should  have  been  the  cause  of  your  cousin  leaving 
you.  I  know  how  greatly  you  enjoyed  his  company  ; 
but  though  I  am  the  cause,  I  feel  that  I  am  innocently 
so,  and  let  me  assure  you  that  nothing  ever  sur- 
prised and  vexed  me  more  than  papa's  desire  that 
I  should  not  visit  you  whilst  your  cousin  remained 
at  your  house. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"Florence  Hawke. 

"  P.S.  I  suppose  you  will  often  see  your 
cousin  ?  Poor  fellow  !  I  hope  he  has  found  nice 
apartments." 


MY   BEISTOL  LODGINGS.  197 

"  There's  a  deal  in  that  note  about  you,  isn't 
there,  Jack?"  said  Amelia,  after  I  had  read  it 
twice  through,  and  was  beginning  for  the  third 
time. 

"  There  is,  indeed,"  I  exclaimed,  thrilled  by 
the  references.  '*  But  what  does  she  mean  by 
saying  that  the  whole  thing  is  quite  absurd 
enough  ?  " 

"  That  her  papa's  conduct  is  absurd,"  answered 
Sophie. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  "  said  I,  doubtfully,  looking  at 
the  sentence  in  the  letter.  "You  don't  think  she 
means  mine,  do  you  ?  " 

They  were  both  so  confident  on  that  head  that 
they  vanquished  my  misgivings.  I  asked  Sophie 
if  she  meant  to  call  at  Clifton  Lodge.  She  said 
that  if  her  mamma  did  not  object  she  would  call — 
that  is,  of  course,  if  Mr.  Hawke  allowed  Florence  to 
visit  them. 

11  We  don't  mean  to  say,  Jack,"  observed  Amelia, 
'•'that  we  should  call  if  you  were  not  concerned  in 
our  remaining  friendly  with  Florence,  because  we 
all  consider  Mr.  Hawke  has  behaved  most  insult- 
ingly to  us.  But  Sophie  and  I  have  talked  things 
over  as  we  came  here,  and  we  have  agreed,  if 
mamma  does  not  object,  to  occasionally  visit 
Florence,  so  as  to  enable  her  to  call  upon  us." 

"  I  am  afraid  }'our  mamma  will  object,"  said  I. 
"  She  lias  said  none  of  vou  could  ever  dream  of 


198  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

calling  upon  the    Hawkes    again  after  what  has 
happened." 

"  She  may  change  her  mind  ;  and  if  so,"  said 
Sophie,  "  the  arrangement  should  suit  you  very 
well." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  I,  "if  I  am  to  meet  Miss 
Hawke  at  your  house.  But  will  she  call,  knowing 
her  papa's  objections?  And  will  not  old  Hawke 
stop  his  daughter's  visits  when  he  hears  that  I 
am  in  Bristol  ?  " 

"  You  are  really  a  very  hard  person  to  help,"  cried 
Amelia.  "  Here  is  a  pile  of  might-be's  !  If  all  that 
you  fear  is  going  to  take  place,  we  must  salaam  and 
give  your  love-troubles  up — for  what  can  we  do  ?  " 

On  this  I  mentally  cursed  myself  for  a  fool — for 
was  not  I  one,  to  go  and  invent  difficulties,  and 
damp  the  romantic  fancies  which  rendered  these 
cousins  my  warm  allies  ?  Looking  humbly  at  them 
both,  I  begged  their  forgiveness,  and  promised  never 
to  express  any  more  apprehensions  nor  to  entertain 
any  further  forebodings,  but  to  take  things  as  they 
came,  and  if  the  wind  drew  ahead  on  one  tack,  to 
shift  the  helm  and  try  the  other  tack. 

"  There's  nothing  else  to  be  done,  Jack,"  said 
Sophie;  "for  if  mamma  won't,  and  Florence  won't, 
and  Mr.  Hawke  won't — if  it  is  to  be  all  won't " 

"  Then  of  course  it  must  be  won't  with  me," 
said  I,  finishing  her  speech  for  her. 

They  stayed  a  while  chatting,  and  before  leaving 


MY   BRISTOL  LODGING B.  199 

asked  me  again  to  dine  with  them.  I  should  have 
been  well  pleased  to  accept  the  invitation,  but  con- 
sidered I  would  stand  a  better  chance  of  preserving 
their  esteem  and  affection  if,  now  that  I  was  out  of 
the  house,  I  did  not  dose  them  too  often  with  my 
company ;  and  besides,  if  this  courtship  of  mine 
was  going  to  involve  much  waiting — whether  it 
came  to  anything  or  not — should  I  not  be  dining 
at  their  house  often  enough"?  "If  ever  you  want 
the  phaeton,  or  feel  disposed  for  a  canter,  you  have 
only  to  send  a  message,  Jack,"  said  Sophie,  and, 
then,  giving  me  a  tender  sentimental  shake  of  the 
hand,  my  cousins  went  away. 

I  killed  the  rest  of  the  da}7  in  wandering  about 
Bristol,  hanging  about  the  docks,  where  the  vessels 
and  the  hands  at  work  upon  them  stirred  up  scores 
of  old  memories,  and  I  also  expended  a  few  shil- 
lings in  the  purchase  of  a  small  collection  of  cheap 
novels.  My  uncle  had  put  my  name  down  at  his 
club,  but  unfortunately  Mr.  Hawke  was  a  member 
of  it,  and  the  fear  of  meeting  him  was  quite  enough 
to  keep  me  clear  of  those  premises.  It  immeasur- 
ably consoled  me,  however,  to  reflect  that  Florence 
Hawke  knew  that  I  was  living  in  Bristol.  Why, 
even  if  she  had  no  feeling  for  me,  outside  liking  me 
as  an  easy-going,  light-hearted  }*oung  fellow,  she 
was  bound  to  take  an  interest  in  a  man  who  had 
surrendered  his  pleasure  and  comfort  as  his  uncle's 
guest,  because  of  her  papa's  fears   and   priggish 


200  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

jealousy,  and  had  gone  to  dwell  in  a  twopenny 
lodging  that  he  might  be  near  her  and  able  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  her  now  and  again.  It  is  true 
that  the  thought  of  young  Morecombe  living  in  her 
house,  enjoying  her  incomparable  society,  and  being 
backed  in  his  assaults  upon  her  heart  by  the 
battery  of  her  father's  wishes,  was  excessively  dis- 
tracting to  a  lover  so  utterly  helpless  as  I  was ;  but 
I  consoled  myself  by  reflecting  that  she  had  spoken 
of  the  young  fellow  as  a  fool,  that  she  had  never 
expressed  an  atom  of  regard  for  him,  and  that  my 
cousins  were  fully  of  opinion  that  Mr.  Hawke  would 
never  induce  his  daughter  to  accept  the  man  as  a 
husband. 

But  taking  it  all  round,  I  give  you  my  word  it 
was  anything  but  the  jolliest  time  of  my  life.  Often 
would  I  pull  out  Florence's  likeness  and  look  at  it, 
and  ask  myself  why  fate  had  ordained  that  she 
should  cross  my  path,  instead  of  allowing  me  to 
remain  the  gay-hearted  youth  who  was  kicking  his 
heels,  up  to  a  recent  period,  about  the  West  End  of 
London,  and  turning  in  night  after  night  without  a 
trouble  to  ruffle  the  serenity  of  his  simple  mind? 
During  the  evening  that  followed  my  cousins'  visit, 
I  very  well  remember  sticking  Miss  Florence's 
photograph  on  the  top  of  a  hot  water-jug,  the  open 
lid  of  which  supported  its  back  and  enabled  me  to 
view  it  with  my  hands  in  my  pockets ;  and  there  it 
stood  up  before   me   like   a   fetish — but  oh,  ship- 


MY  BRISTOL   LODGINGS.  201 

mates,  the  beautiful  drooping  profile  !  the  lovely 
swell  of  the  figure !  the  rich,  tender  speaking  eye 
downwards  bent,  hollowest  phantasm  of  the  exqui- 
site reality  as  it  was ! — whilst  I  soliloquized  as 
though  I  were  making  my  devotions  before  the 
goddess  ;  and  I  well  recollect  wondering  whether  it 
would  not  be  better  for  me  to  end  this  business 
by  packing  my  portmanteau  and  going  away  to 
London  next  morning,  instead  of  languishing  in 
these  lodgings,  dependent  upon  my  cousins  for  the 
privilege  of  even  seeing  Miss  Florence,  and  of 
eventually,  maybe,  sinking  into  a  species  of  idiocy, 
only  to  be  rewarded  in  the  end  by  receiving  a  piece 
of  Mrs.  Florence  Morecombe's  wedding-cake  to  put 
under  my  pillow.  My  love,  thought  I,  is  but  a 
milk-tooth  now,  a  small  pull  will  whip  it  away ; 
but  if  I  let  it  grow,  it  will  become  a  lumping  big 
grinder  with  several  enormous  fangs,  so  that  the 
very  devil  himself  might  fail  to  haul  it  out ;  and  if 
it  should  decay — heavens  !  what  agony  must  I 
suffer  !  What  ought  I  to  do  then  ?  But  guess 
what  sort  of  common  sense  I  had  in  those  days 
when  you  notice  that  I  tried  to  reason,  with 
Florence's  lovely  face  mounted  on  a  hot-water  jug 
plump  under  my  nose  !  How  was  it  possible  for 
me  to  form  any  safe  resolution,  to  act  like  a  man 
who  was  determined  to  be  master  of  himself,  whilst 
the  image  of  the  sweetest  of  faces  and  figures — 
the  portrait  of  the  woman  I  adored — stood  up  in 


202  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

front  of  me  to  paralyze  every  little  thumping 
struggle  my  heart  gave  to  regain  its  liberty  ?  No, 
thought  I,  snatching  up  the  beautiful  picture  and 
kissing  it,  it's  too  late — I'm  in  for  it — I'll  keep  all 
fast !  And  pocketing  the  photograph,  I  drank  to 
my  own  health,  lighted  a  pipe,  and  fell  to  one  of 
the  half-dozen  novels  I  had  purchased. 


(  203  ) 


CHAPTEE  X. 

MY  UNCLE  DAMPS  MY  HOPES. 

Nothing  particular,  as  shipmasters  say  when  they 
depose  to  disasters,  happened  for  the  next  three 
days.  I  recollect  calling  at  my  uncle's  house  and 
finding  everybody  out,  also  killing  a  morning  by  a 
trip  to  Portishead,  attending  a  morning  service  in 
the  cathedral,  in  the  vague,  utterly  idle  hope  of 
seeing  Miss  Hawke  there.  Had  I  been  in  Bristol 
merely  as  a  lounging  visitor,  with  an  unoccupied 
mind  on  the  look-out  for  amusement,  I  should 
have  immensely  enjoyed  the  old  city;  for  it  is 
as  picturesque  a  place  as  a  man  need  wish  to  see, 
full  of  gable-roofed  houses  belonging  to  ancient 
times,  and  quaint  side- streets  ;  and,  above  all,  it 
gives  you  the  interests  of  a  big  port  close  to  your 
door  in  the  shape  of  ships,  which  come  up  into 
the  heart  of  the  town  and  mingle  their  spars  and 
flags  with  chimney-pots  and  steeples. 

But  my  mind  never  was  unoccupied.    I  wandered 
about  like  a  dog  that  has  lost  its  master,  staring  at 


204  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

people  and  into  carriages  in  hopes  of  catching  a 
glimpse  of  Florence  Hawke,  with  my  mind  so  full 
of  plans  and  plots,  of  hopes  and  fears,  of  determi- 
nation and  irresolution,  that  had  Bristol  been  built 
by  the  slaves  of  Aladdin  in  a  night,  I  should  have 
mooned  and  gaped  along  the  pavements  without 
giving  the  least  attention  to  the  miracle. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  I  returned  to 
my  lodgings,  having  been  down  to  Portishead  to 
have  a  look  at  the  old  ocean,  and  found  my  little 
parlour  fogged  with  tobacco  smoke,  in  the  midst  of 
which  sat  my  uncle  blowing  clouds  from  a  large 
meerschaum.     This  was  his  first  visit,  and  when 
I  entered,  instead  of  saying  "How  do  you  do  ?"  he 
exclaimed,   "  Shut  the  door   behind  ye,  Jack.      I 
don't  want  your  landlady  to  hear  me  laugh.    Man  ! 
you  must  be  deeply  in  love  to  put  up  with  this. 
Dash  my  buttons !  you  don't  call  this  a  room,  do 
ye  ?    Why,  if  Florence  was  to  catch  sight  of  this 
match-box,  darned  if  I  don't  think  she'd  be  giving 
you  her  hand  and  heart  slick  away  off  out  of  mercy 
so  as  to  get  you  out  of  this  butter-box  of  a  hole." 

"  Small  as  it  is,"  said  I,  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you  in 
it.  How  are  you  ? "  and  we  shook  hands,  after 
which  I  opened  the  window. 

"  And  what  headway  are  you  making  ?  "  said  he. 

"I'm  very  comfortable  here,"  I  replied.  "  Not 
equal  to  your  palace,  but  good  enough  for  a  spell — 
clean,  quiet,  respectable,  and  cheap." 


MY  UNCLE   DAMPS   MY  HOPES.  205 

"  I  don't  mean  that,"  said  he.  "  What  are  you 
doing  in  this  love  business?  Are  you  forging  ahead 
at  all  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say  I  am,"  I  replied,  feeling  exceedingly 
foolish. 

"  Have  you  met  Florence  since  you  left  us  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Not  once." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  then  ?  " 

"No." 

"Neither  met  her  nor  seen  her!"  he  cried. 
"  What  are  you  doing  then — writing  to  her  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head ;  these  questions  were  abomin- 
ably mortifying,  and  made  me  feel  horribly  absurd. 

"Then,"  said  he,  "in  the  name  of  Jerusalem, 
what  are  you  stopping  in  this  rat-hole  for  ? " 
looking  around  him.  "  Has  any  one  invented  a 
new  method  of  making  love  since  I  was  young,  by 
which  two  people  can  grow  desperately  attached  by 
never  seeing,  by  never  meeting,  by  never  hearing, 
and  never  writing  to  each  other  ?  If  not,  then 
come  back  to  my  house,  Jack :  don't  go  and  ruin 
the  reputation  of  the  Seymours  for  intellect  by 
hiding  in  a  snail-shell  and  pretending  that  you  are 
courting." 

My  dignity  was  touched.  "Pardon  me,"  I 
observed  somewhat  loftily,  "  you  knew  the  policy  I 
intended  to  adopt.  I  am  content  to  wait.  Mr. 
Alphonso  Hawke  is  not  an  apple-tree  that  I  can 


206  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

turn  to  and  shake  him  until  the  particular  fruit  I 
want  falls  at  my  feet.  His  daughter  knows  I  love 
her  :  she  knows  I  am  living  in  Bristol  for  her  sake." 

"But  what's  that  got  to  do  with  it?"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  If  you  never  meet  her,  if  you  never  see 
her,  if  you  don't  correspond  with  her,  what's  to 
come  of  your  lodging  in  this  oyster-shell  ?  " 

"  I  am  in  my  cousins'  hands,"  said  I.  "  Florence 
Hawke  and  I  will  meet,  depend  upon  it ;  and  when 
we  do,  you  bet  that  Jack  Seymour  hasn't  withdrawn 
into  this  oyster-shell,  as  you  call  it,  for  nothing." 

"Look  here,  my  lad,"  said  he,  speaking  very 
kindly,  and  with  a  touch  of  apology  in  his  voice  that 
was  almost  alarming,  "  I  don't  want  to  discourage 
you — you  know  that." 

"Yes,  I  know  that." 

"There's  no  reason,"  he  continued,  "why  you 
shouldn't  win  this  girl — though,  mind,  you'll  do 
nothing  by  sitting  down  in  this  snuff-box  of  a  cham- 
ber with  a  pipe  in  your  mouth,  or  taking  a  turn 
along  a  few  fathoms  of  pavement.  D'ye  remember 
that  I  lectured  you  once  on  sincerity?  Well,  it 
eased  my  mind,  and  ever  since  I've  somehow  felt 
that  you're  to  be  trusted  :  my  notion  being  that  if 
Florence  chooses  to  fancy  you,  she'll  find  you  an 
A  1  husband,  built  above  the  usual  requirements, 
copper-fastened,  and  something  fit  to  handle. 
Money  she  oughtn't  to  want ;  and  if  her  father  cuts 
her  off,  you  must  go  to  work  and  double  your  in- 


MY   UNCLE  DAMPS  MY  HOPES.  207 

eome,  and  that'll  do  for  the  present.  So  you  see, 
my  boy,  I  don't  want  to  discourage  you." 

"  But  what  do  you  want  to  say,  then  ?  "  said  I, 
wondering  what  he  was  driving  at  now  that  he  had 
made  all  these  admissions. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  looking  a  bit  nervous,  "  you  just 
now  spoke  of  your  cousins  helping  you.  Well,  I 
have  no  objection.  I  have  my  own  theories  of  life, 
and  do  not  know  why  I  should  be  expected  to  ap- 
plaud Mr.  Hawke's  views  and  support  them.  You're 
a  gentleman — poor,  but  not  a  beggar.  You  have 
something  to  offer  Florence,  even  if  she  came  to 
you  without  a  stiver.     Isn't  that  so  ?  " 

"  I  have  two  hundred  and  fifty  a  year,"  said  I. 

"Yes,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and  youth  also,  which  is 
always  worth  money.  If  you  were  a  dissolute  fel- 
low, if  you  were  a  twopenny  rascal,  if  I  thought  you 
weren't  worth  the  love  of  such  a  girl  as  Florence,  if 
I  reckoned  you'd  like  to  get  her,  not  for  her  heart's 
sake,  but  for  what  she'd  bring  along  with  her,  does 
any  man  who  knows  me  suppose  I  would  lift  a 
finger  to  help  you  to  foul  old  Hawke  by  running 
athwart  his  hawse  ?  My  boy,  if  I  lifted  anything  it 
would  be  my  foot,  to  give  ye  a  hoist  out  of  the  way 
of  the  charming  girl.  Mind,  Jack,  I  don't  want  to 
say  anything  to  discourage  you." 

•'  I'm  following  you  anxiously,"  said  I. 

"  The  fact  is,  nephew,  your  aunt  and  I  are  not 
agreed.     She  is  for  respecting  Mr.  Hawke's  wishes 


208  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

to  the  extent  of  your  doing  nothing  to  bother  him. 
She  is  very  fond  of  you,  Jack — ay,  proud  of  you, 
my  boy,  as  a  relative;  but  she  doesn't  think  it 
would  be  consistent  with  our  dignity  for  your 
cousins  to  meddle  in  a  business  that's  already 
caused  old  Hawke  to  insult  us." 

"I  do  not  blame  her,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  not  my  fault,"  continued  he,  growing  more 
and  more  apologetic,  and  looking  very  sorry.  "  I 
it  was  who  told  you  you  might  count  upon  your 
cousins.  But  my  wife  objects,  and  she  must  have 
her  way.  She  has  consented  to  their  calling  on 
Florence,  but  on  the  distinct  understanding  that 
they  take  no  messages,  no  notes." 

"You  may  depend  upon  it,"  said  I  speaking 
coolly,  but  feeling  frightfully  chagrined,  "  that  her 
requests  are  law  to  me.  I  beg  that  you  will  give 
her  my  love,  and  assure  her  that  the  same  resolu- 
tion that  forced  me  from  her  hospitable  house  will 
enable  me  most  strictly  to  respect  her  wishes." 

"For  God's  sake!"  he  burst  out,  "don't  be 
too  polite,  Jack,  or  you'll  make  me  think  you're 
satirical." 

"  No,  no,"  said  I,  "  I  am  too  fond  of  you  all  to 
try  my  clumsy  fist  at  satire." 

"  I  know  you  are,  and  we're  equally  fond  of  you  : 
and  what  I  want  to  know  now  is,  whether,  seeing 
that  it  wouldn't  be  proper  for  your  cousins  to  help 
you  in  this  job,  it  is  worth  your  while  to  go  on 


MY   UXCLE   DAMPS   MY   HOPES.  209 

bothering  yourself  over  it.  Act  sensibly,  man ! 
Give  up  these  lodgings,  come  to  my  house,  and 
when  you've  had  enough  of  us,  return  to  London." 

"A  thousand  thanks  for  your  kindness,  uncle; 
but — what !  "  I  shouted,  "  surrender  my  love,  my 
hopes,  my  chances,  by  living  in  a  house  on  the  under r 
standing  that  I  must  never  meet  Florence  Hawke, 
or,  if  I  meet  her,  that  I  must  never  speak  to  her  or 
take  notice  of  her  lest  I  should  excite  her  father's 
suspicions  of  your  neighbourliness,  and  lead  him  to 
suppose  you  are  keeping  me  with  you  for  the 
purpose  of  annoying  him  !  My  dear  uncle,  you  once 
called  me  a  swab ;  do  you  really  think  I  am  one?  " 

He  laughed  heartily,  and  said,  "Well,  well;  I  see 
how  it  is.  One  must  needs  go  when  the  devil 
drives.  How  you'll  manage  to  get  along  I  don't 
know  ;  but  I  dare  say  in  its  time  love  has  triumphed 
over  bigger  difficulties  than  any  you're  likely  to 
encounter.  Indeed,  I  once  knew  a  man  who,  to 
come  at  the  object  of  his  affections,  had  not  only  to 
fight  his  own  and  the  lady's  family — the  two  families 
combined  mustering  no  less  than  two-and-twenty 
souls— but  the  family  of  the  rector  of  the  parish, 
the  family  of  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  the  rela- 
tions of  a  medical  widower.  He  beat  'em  all.  His 
triumph  was  wonderful !  There  was  no  bolting,  no 
scudding  away  :  he  married  the  girl  calmly  and 
legitimately ;  and  you  may  make  an  Irish  hash  of 
me,  Jack,  if  the  wedding  guests  didn't  consist  of  all 

VOL.  I.  P 


210  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

the  people  lie  had,  in  a  moral  sense,  knocked  on  the 
head,  and  over  whose  bodies  he  had  crawled  on  his 
road  to  the  altar.  Take  that  fable  to  heart,"  said 
he,  "  and  moralize  it." 

My  conversation  with  him,  however,  had  not  left 
me  in  a  very  moralizing  mood.  He  lingered  a 
little,  talking  and  laughing — in  truth  he  saw  that 
he  had  made  me  despondent,  and  wanted  to  leave 
me  in  better  spirits — and  tried  to  persuade  me  to 
dine  with  him  that  day.  I  declined,  for  I  was  not  at 
all  in  the  humour  to  enjoy  his  hospitality,  but 
promised  to  spend  the  following  afternoon  and  even- 
ing at  his  house ;  and  this  being  settled  he  went 
away,  urging  me  with  his  last  words  to  quit  those 
lodgings,  and  never  to  suffer  any  woman  in  this 
wide  world  to  make  me  unhappy  whilst  I  remained 
a  bachelor,  as  it  was  time  enough  for  a  man  to 
begin  to  feel  miserable  when  he  was  married. 

I  had  counted  so  fully  upon  the  good  offices  of 
my  cousins,  upon  their  willingness  to  convey  letters 
and  messages,  upon  their  womanly  capacity  of 
interesting  Florence  in  me  by  their  talk  of  my 
devotion,  my  admiration  of  her,  and  the  like,  that 
upon  my  word,  mates,  the  thought  that  their  help 
was  lost  to  me  affected  me  to  such  a  degree,  that 
hang  me  if  I  am  not  ashamed  to  think  of  it.  What 
was  I  to  do  now  ?  No  doubt  1  had  the  sympathy 
of  my  relations,  but  their  neutrality  was  almost  as 
bad  as  active  hostility,  so  that  practically  I  stood 


MY   UNCLE  DAMPS   MY  HOPES.  211 

alone,  I  was  without  a  friend,  without  any  means 
of  communicating  with  my  darling,  unless  indeed  I 
boldly  wrote  to  her  at  her  papa's  house,  which 
might  have  been  a  resolution  very  easy  to  carry 
out,  but  not  for  a  moment  to  be  entertained  if  I 
valued  my  self-respect  and  hers  ;  and  I  was  there- 
fore deprived  of  all  chance  of  keeping  myself  alive 
in  her  memory.  Under  such  circumstances  there 
is  probably  not  one  man  in  a  hundred  who  would 
not  have  withdrawn  whilst  his  wounds  were  still 
small.  But  my  nature  was  an  obstinate  one,  and 
sanguine  too,  a  compound  not  often  met.  Besides 
this,  I  loved  the  girl  from  the  very  bottom  of  my 
heart  with  a  boyish  intensity  I  like  to  remember. 
I  also  valued  my  relatives'  opinion,  and  guessed 
if  I  turned  tail  at  this  juncture  they  would  ever 
after  look  upon  me  as  a  very  insincere  poor 
creature.  These  and  a  hundred  such  thoughts 
determined  me  to  "  hold  on  all,"  as  we  say  at  sea, 
to  put  my  faith  in  chance,  to  be  patient — in 
short,  to  play  with  Dame  Fortune  the  old  nursery 
game  of  shutting  my  eyes  and  opening  my  mouth 
and  seeing  what  I  should  get.  It  might  be  a 
lollipop,  or  it  might  be  a  dose  of  jalap,  but  what- 
ever it  was.,  I  would  swallow  it. 

Yet  for  all  that,  the  worry,  the  disappointment, 
the  real  distress  of  mind  I  was  in,  coupled  with  the 
heat  of  the  weather  and  the  smallness  of  the  room 
about  which  I  kept  lurching  for  some  time  after  my 


212  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

uncle  had  gone  away,  with  my  head  full  of  sim- 
mering fancies,  threw  me  into  a  kind  of  fever ;  and 
then  there  came  into  me  such  a  desperate,  crazy 
longing  to  see  Florence  Hawke — to  catch  even  the 
merest  glimpse  of  her — that  without  any  kind  of 
plan  in  my  mind  I  pulled  on  my  hat  and  set  sail 
in  the  direction  of  Clifton.  I  did  not,  however, 
know  how  tired  my  ramble  about  Portishead  had 
made  me  until  I  was  mounting  the  steep  road 
which  would  carry  me  to  Clifton  Lodge,  and  com- 
pelled by  fatigue  to  walk  slowly,  I  had  plenty  of 
leisure  for  reflection.  What  did  I  mean  to  do? 
To  pull  the  bell,  and  ask  if  Miss  Hawke  was  at 
home?  Stand  at  the  gate  and  peep  through  the 
bars  ?  Was  I  anxious  to  give  old  Hawke  an  oppor- 
tunity of  pronouncing  an  opinion  on  me  through 
the  medium  of  his  flunkeys  ? 

In  truth,  when  I  began  to  ask  myself  where  I 
was  bound  to,  and  what  I  hoped  to  do  when  I  got 
there,  I  found  an  irresolution  creeping  upon  me. 
When  a  man  is  really  beloved  of  his  sweetheart 
there  are  few  things  he  can  do  which  are  likely  to 
make  him  ridiculous  in  her  eyes — at  least,  that's 
my  notion,  and  of  course,  I  may  be  wrong ;  but  I 
fancy  no  one  will  doubt  that  until  a  fellow  has  won 
a  girl's  heart  he  runs  many  risks  of  being  laughed 
at  by  her.  Should  Miss  Hawke  catch  me  hanging 
about  the  road  in  front  of  her  house  and  peeping  at 
the  windows  like  a  burglar  settling  his  little  plans, 


MY  UNCLE  DAMPS  MY  HOPES.  213 

would  she  be  amused  ?  She  might,  it  is  true,  be 
affected  by  this  instance  of  my  devotion,  or  she 
might  think  I  was  acting  very  ridiculously.  An 
alternative  of  this  kind  is  a  very  serious  thing. 
These  were  my  thoughts  as  I  marched  toilsomely 
up  that  hill,  and  these  were  the  considerations 
which  caused  me  after  a  while  to  stop,  and  then 
march  down  again. 

No  one  who  has  been  in  love  but  will  sympathize 
with  the  feelings  which  mastered  me  at  this  period, 
and  follow  with  emotion  the  various  postures  of 
mind  into  which  my  passion  forced  me. 


214  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

I    POUR    OUT    MY    SOUL. 

What  sort  of  man  was  Mr.  Reginald  Morecoinbe  ? 
Was  he  short  or  tall  ?  Good-looking  or  plain  ?  A 
real  fool  or  with  as  much  sense  as  most  youths 
have?  That  he  wore  his  hair  parted  down  the 
middle,  that  he  dressed  himself  in  stick-up  collars 
(no  great  vice),  that  he  used  an  eye-glass,  and  talked 
of  blood  with  the  complacency  of  a  gentleman 
whose  private  conviction  is  that  people  of  humble 
extraction  wander  through  life  with  their  veins 
filled  up  with  water,  I  had  heard ;  but  these  points 
were  vague  enough.  I  had  never  seen  him,  which 
was  not  curious  considering  that  he  had  been  laid 
up  with  a  sprained  ankle  pretty  nearly  ever  since 
his  arrival  at  Clifton ;  but  not  the  less  was  my 
curiosity  exceedingly  keen,  so  that  next  to  Miss 
Hawke  the  person  I  was  most  anxious  to  have  a 
good  look  at  was  the  youth  her  father  wanted  her 
to  marry. 

My  mind  was  full  of  speculations  about  this  man 


I  POUK   OUT  MY   SOUL.  215 

as  next  morning  I  talked  to  Clifton  to  spend  the 
day  with  my  relatives;  and  it  was  therefore  a  coin- 
cidence in  its  way  that  I  had  not  been  walking 
ten  minutes  when  I  spied  Mr.  Hawke's  carriage 
standing  opposite  a  bookseller's  shop.  The  sight 
of  the  men's  livery,  which  I  had  good  reason  to 
remember,  fluttered  me  exceedingly ;  but  I  had  to 
come  abreast  of  the  vehicle  before  I  could  see  who 
was  in  it,  and  as  I  did  so  Mr.  Hawke  came  out  of 
the  shop  and  said  something  to  the  young  fellow 
who  was  sitting  in  the  carriage.  The  old  chap  did 
not  see  me.  I  walked  hurriedly  by,  taking  but  a 
short  peep  at  the  young  man,  who  of  course  would 
be  no  other  than  Mr.  Morecombe.  That  peep, 
sharp  and  brief  as  it  was,  did  not  make  me  feel 
very  happy,  for  I  am  bound  to  say  that  Mr.  More- 
combe was  a  decidedly  good-looking  man,  appa- 
rently about  eight- and- twenty,  with  a  large  tawny 
moustache  and  a  well-shaped  nose.  There  was  a 
glass  in  his  eye,  and  he  wore  the  stick-ups  my 
uncle  had  jeered  at.  He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
tweed,  with  yellow  gloves,  plenty  of  shirt-sleeve. 
and  a  white  deer-stalking  hat.  Yet  there  was 
something  mighty  affected,  I  thought,  in  his  pose 
as  he  leaned  back  with  a  cigarette  between  his 
fingers. 

I  walked  quickly  past,  as  I  have  said,  never 
troubling  myself  to  look  behind  ;  but  let  me 
repeat,  mates,  the  sight  of  that  man  made  me  feel 


216  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

uncomfortable.  He  was  certainly  not  the  sort  of 
individual  I  had  fancied  him.  I  had  figured  a 
somewhat  idiotic  person,  smooth-faced,  a  sort  of 
compromise  between  man  and  woman,  with  the 
assurance  of  the  one  and  the  vanity  of  the  other. 
Instead  of  which,  the  villain  had  a  masculine 
appearance,  was  of  my  height,  as  I  reckoned  by 
his  body  as  he  sat  in  the  carriage,  unless  his  legs 
were  short  (which  I  hoped),  and  was  not  without 
breadth  of  shoulders.  I  had  noticed  with  a  spasm 
of  jealousy  and  wrath  the  polite,  exceedingly 
gracious  manner  with  which  old  Hawke  had  smiled 
on  the  youth  as  he 'came  out  of  the  shop. 

Mr.  Morecombe,  I  thought  as  I  stepped  out, 
walking  fast  in  my  abstraction,  is  good-looking,  is 
gentlemanly-looking,  he  is  well  connected,  his  wife 
will  be  Lady  Morecombe,  he  may  not  be  well  off, 
but  he  cannot  be  poorer  than  I.  Suppose  he  is  the 
fool  my  relatives — ay,  and  Florence  Hawke — call 
him ;  suppose  he  talks  nonsense  about  blood  ;  sup- 
pose he  is  a  puppy  by  nature  and  the  meanest  of 
creatures  in  intellect — whoever  he  marries  will 
some  day  be  "  her  ladyship "  ;  he  has  a  pretty 
figure  for  a  carriage,  or  a  saddle,  or  a  drawing- 
room,  and  he  is  no  doubt  capable  of  running  very 
glibly  over  a  whole  catalogue  of  titled  aunts  and 
uncles  and  cousins.  What  more  does  pompous  old 
Hawke  want?  What  chance  should  I  stand,  who  am 
little  better  than  a  shell-back,  whose  father  was  a 


I  POUR  OUT  MY  SOUL.  217 

lawyer,  who  have  no  pretensions  to  Mr.  Reginald 
Morecornbe's  elegant  military  style,  his  beautiful 
moustache,  his  small  hands,  and  general  noble 
ball-room  appearance  ? 

I  arrived  at  my  uncle's  house  in  a  very  dejected, 
uncomfortable  mood,  partly  induced  by  the  view  I 
had  obtained  of  Mr.  Morecombe,  and  partly  by 
thoughts  about  my  aunt,  who  I  considered  was 
acting  very  unkindly  in  prohibiting  her  daughters 
from  lending  me  a  hand  in  my  courtship.  As  I 
entered  the  gate  I  plumped  up  against  Sophie,  who 
was  unmistakably  hanging  about  to  intercept  me. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  as  I  stopped  to  shake  hands 
with  her,  "  I  know  you  wonder  why  neither  Amelia 
nor  I  have  called  upon  you." 

"Not  at  all,"  I  answered.  "Your  papa  was 
with  me  yesterday,  and  he  explained  how  matters 
stand.  Why  should  you  call  ?  You  have  nothing 
to  tell  me." 

"It  is  not  my  fault,"  cried  the  amiable  girl, 
speaking  with  a  distressed  face;  "I  had  made  all 
arrangements  to  visit  Florence  and  have  her  here, 
as  you  know — purely  for  your  sake,  but  mamma 
strictly  prohibited  Amelia  and  me  from  mentioning 
your  name  to  Florence,  or  acting  in  any  way  as  a 
go-between.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  I  am  obliged  to 
obey  mamma." 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  said  I.  "  Don't  let  this 
trouble  you.      I  fully    appreciate   all  your  good 


218  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

intentions.  It's  a  blow,  I  admit,  to  be  deprived 
of  your  help.  But  until  I  positively  hear  that 
Florence  Hawke  has  accepted  young  Moreconibe — 
who,  by  the  way,  I  have  just  sighted  for  the  first 
time — or  until  I  know  that  the  love  I  offered  her 
on  that  seat  there,"  said  I,  pointing,  "is  objection- 
able to  her,  I'll  go  on  hoping,  Sophie,  I'll  go  on 
waiting;  for  who  knows  what  may  happen?"  and 
so  saying  I  put  my  hand  through  her  arm,  and  in 
this  friendly  manner  we  walked  to  the  house. 

My  aunt  welcomed  me  very  kindly,  and  I  took 
care  to  put  so  much  warmth  into  my  manner  that 
it  was  impossible  she  could  suspect  how  annoyed 
I  was  with  her  for  allowing  her  regard  for  old 
Hawke's  opinion  to  interfere  with  niy  chance  of 
wooing  his  lovely  daughter.  I  had  hoped  that  no 
reference  to  the  business  in  any  shape  or  form 
would  have  been  made,  and  had  it  rested  with  my 
aunt  and  cousins  nothing  probably  would  have 
been  said;  but  my  uncle,  who  spoke  whatever 
came  into  his  head,  tumbled  us  all  into  the  topic 
at  lunch  by  asking  Amelia  if  she  had  seen  Miss 
Hawke  lately.  My  aunt  tried  to  catch  his  eye 
to  make  a  face  at  him,  but  he  would  not  look. 

"  I  saw  her  yesterday,  but  only  to  nod  to," 
replied  Amelia. 

"  Does  anybody  know  how  young  Morecombe  is 
getting  on?"  continued  my  uncle;  "how's  his 
sprain — can  any  one  tell  ?  " 


I  POUR   OUT  MY   SOUL.  219 

"  It  should  be  well  by  this  time,"  said  Sophie 
contemptuously. 

"I'm  not  so  sure,"  exclaimed  my  uncle;  "a 
sprain  is  a  bad  job.  I  have  known  a  man  to  be 
laid  up  for  twelve  weeks  with  a  twisted  ankle." 

"  I  saw  him  in  the  Hawkes'  carriage  as  I  came 
here,"  said  I ;  "  his  sufferings  did  not  seem 
acute." 

"  Was  that  the  first  time  you  had  ever  seen 
him  ?  "  asked  my  aunt.     I  replied  that  it  was. 

"  What  d'ye  think  of  him  ?  "  said  my  uncle. 

"  That  he's  a  decidedly  good-looking  fellow,  with 
a  very  gentlemanly  appearance."  Sophie  seemed 
to  regard  me  with  astonishment.  My  aunt  said, 
"It  is  very  honourable  in  you  to  praise  him,  Mr. 

Jack.     He  is  certainly  handsome  to  look  at " 

"From  a  distance,"  interrupted  Sophie.  "But," 
continued  my  aunt,  "when  you  get  to  know  him 
and  converse  with  him  his  looks  seem  to  fade 
away.  I  am  afraid  it  is  because  he  has  very  little 
intellect." 

"The  fact  is,  Jack,"  said  my  uncle,  "his  beauty 
founders  in  his  imbecility.  The  moment  you  stir 
up  his  mind  his  appearance  gets  swamped  and 
sinks.  Yet  I  like  to  hear  ye  admire  the  man ;  it's 
a  nautical  touch  that  pleases  me." 

"  Only  Mr.  Hawke  could  endure  so  silly  a  person 
as  a  guest,"  observed  Amelia. 

"Do  not  let  us  talk  of  Mr.  Hawke,  dear,"  said 


220  .     JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

ray  aunt.  "Sophie,  pass  the  sherry  to  your  cousin, 
my  love." 

"  Before  we  shelve  old  Hawke,  Sophie,"  said  my 
uncle  in  the  manner  of  one  who  rises  after  a  dinner  to 
make  a  speech,  "  I  want  to  say  a  word.  I  told  Jack 
yesterday  why  you  object  to  the  girls  meddling  in 
his  love  affairs ;  he  quite  understands,  as  I  explained 
to  you,  my  dear.  It  is  not  because  you  like  old 
Hawke,  nor  because  you  approve  of  his  wish  to 
marry  his  child  to  an  ass,  nor  because  you  would 
not  be  delighted  to  see  Florence  Hawke  become  Mrs. 
•Jack  Seymour;  but  because  you  think  it's  right 
that  people  should  do  as  they'd  like  to  be  done  by 
— by  which  I  mean  that  if  you  were  carrying  out 
some  marriage  speculation  for  Sophie  there,  you 
would  not  be  pleased  if  Hawke's  nephew  (supposing 
he  had  one)  stepped  in,  backed  by  Hawke  and  his 
family,  to  stop  or  thwart  or  bother  you  in  your 
little  game.  There  need  be  no  feeling  on  the 
subject.  Jack  is  a  young  man  of  sense ;  aren't  you, 
Jack?" 

All  this  was  distressing  enough  to  me,  and  I  could 
only  blush  and  try  to  smile  and  look  amiable.  My 
aunt,  dragged  into  a  topic  she  had  not  wanted  to 
meddle  with,  was  forced  to  speak. 

"lam  sorry,"  said  she  to  me,  "  to  have  felt 
obliged — and  I  really  have  felt  obliged — to  say  or 
do  anything  that — that  you  might  think  not  kind. 
My  husband  knows,  and  so  do  Sophie  and  Amelia, 


I  POUR   OUT  MY   SOUL.  221 

that  I  would  be  very  glad  to  see  you  the  accepted 
lover  of  Florence  Hawke.  Do  not  imagine  I 
wonder  at  your  admiration  of  her  or  that  you 
should  be  in  love,  for  I  greatly  admire  Florence 
myself  and  have  a  warm  affection  for  her.  But  it 
was  out  of  the  question  that  Mr.  Hawke  should  be 
allowed  to  suppose  that  we  were  abetting  you 
against  his  wishes ;  nor,  in  my  opinion,  would  m 
daughters  be  acting  with  propriety  in  calling  at 
Clifton  Lodge  after  what  has  passed,  and,  under 
the  mask  of  visiting  &s  friends,  helping  you  in  your 

— your " 

"  Affair  dee  cooer — put  it  politely,"  said  my 
uncle. 

"And  so  virtually  acting  as  the  enemies  of  Mr. 
Hawke's,"  concluded  my  aunt,  who  was  exceedingly 
nervous  and  extended  her  hand  to  Sophie  for  the 
fan  the  girl  wore  slung  by  a  lanyard  to  her  waist. 

"  There's  no  reasoning  against  that,"  said  my 
uncle.  "  Girls,  your  mother's  right.  We  all  of  us 
wish  Jack  plenty  of  luck;  he  deserves  it,  and,  in 
my  opinion,  he'll  get  it ;  but  he  must  haul  alone. 
Yes,  my  lad,  it  must  be  a  single-handed  job.  It's 
a  pity,  but  women  are  the  best  judges  of  what's 
proper  and  decorous  in  behaviour,  and  what  your 
aunt  says  we're  bound  to  endorse,  both  of  us." 

Once  more  I  say  all  this  was  very  distressing, 
besides  being  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable,  for  it 
was  going  over  old  ground  ;    however,  I  put  on  a 


222  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

pleasant  face,  thanked  my  aunt  for  her  good  wishes, 
apologized  for  having  been  the  cause  of  Mr.  Hawke's 
rudeness,  and  by  backing  and  filling  managed  to 
go  clear  of  the  confoundedly  narrow  channel  into 
which  my  uncle's  candid  soul  had  warped  me,  and 
then,  with  a  dexterous  twist,  changed  the  subject. 

After  luncheon  Sophie  came  to  the  window  of 
tire  room  in  which  her  father  and  I  sat  smoking, 
and  asked  if  I  would  take  a  walk  with  her.  I  at 
once  said  "Yes,"  and  looked  at  her  eagerly,  fancy- 
ing that  she  intended  to  put  me  in  the  way  of 
meeting  Florence.  She  read  my  thoughts  and 
shook  her  head,  and  said  significantly,  "  Only  for 
a  walk,  Jack,  as  far  as  Observatory  Hill,  just  to 
kill  an  hour."  "No  mischief  hatching,  I  hope," 
says  my  uncle,  who  was  half  asleep.  "  I  wish 
there  was,  in  the  sense  you  mean,"  thought  I, 
greatly  disappointed  by  Sophie's  shake  of  the  head. 
"Yes,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  take  a  stroll,"  I  said 
to  my  cousin,  with  whom  in  that  sentimental  time 
I  took  great  pleasure  in  conversing :  so  she  went 
away,  and  in  about  twenty  minutes'  time  reappeared 
dressed  for  the  walk.  My  uncle  was  sound  asleep, 
snoring  bravely,  with  a  quantity  of  cigar  ash  on 
his  trowsers,  and  his  arms  hanging  all  abroad. 

"  Won't  Amelia  join  us  ?  "  I  asked  Sophie  as 
we  stepped  on  to  the  lawn.  She  answered  that 
her  sister  had  been  walking  in  the  morning  and 
felt  tired,  and  that  her  mamma  was  lying  down  in 


I  POUR   OUT   MY   SOUL.  223 

her  bedroom.  I  dare  say  neither  of  them  knew 
that  she  was  going  for  a  walk  with  me  ;  she  wanted 
to  have  my  emotions  and  woes  to  herself — to  enjoy 
me  alone,  as  if  I  were  a  love  story  in  three 
volumes.  Indeed,  my  cousin  Sophie  had  a  truly 
romantic  turn  of  mind,  a  keen  and  native  relish  of 
all  matters  which  concern  the  heart.  How  she 
managed  to  endure  life  without  having  some  great 
secret  of  her  own  I  cannot  imagine.  Perhaps  she 
had;  and  if  so  I  should  feel  disposed  to  bet  that  he 
had  melancholy  eyes  and  was  considerably  in 
debt. 

We  walked  along  very  slowly,  and  as  we  walked 
we  conversed  on  the  one  topic  that  at  that  period 
absorbed  the  whole  of  my  slender  stock  of  under- 
standing. "  I  can  only  repeat,  Jack,"  says  she, 
u  that  I  am  deeply  vexed  at  not  being  able  to  help 
you  as  I  should  like.  I  had  made  such  capital 
plans.  Again  and  again  Florence  could  have  been 
at  our  house  when  you  arrived — quite  by  accident, 
of  course.  Then  she  and  I  could  have  taken 
drives,  and  met  you  in  the  most  unexpected 
manner.  But  mamma's  wishes  are  law,"  and  the 
dear  thing  sighed  with  all  her  might. 

"  Sophie,"  said  I,  "at  lunch  you  heard  me  say  I 
had  seen  young  Morecombe  in  the  Hawkes' 
carriage.  I  spoke  of  him  lightly,  for  I  want 
nobody  but  you  to  know  all  that  I  feel.  But  the 
truth  is,  Sophie,  the  sight  of  that  man  has  made 


224  JACK'S   COUETSHIP. 

me  miserable ;  I  had  no  notion  he  was  so  good- 
looking." 

"He  is  not  good-looking,"  she  replied  scorn- 
fully; "it's  your  jealousy  that  makes  him  formid- 
able. At  all  events,  if  he's  good-looking  in  your 
opinion,  depend  upon  it  he  does  not  come  up  to  a 
woman's  ideas  of  a  handsome  man." 

"You  merely  say  this  to  comfort  me,"  I 
mumbled. 

"  I  say  it  because  it  is  true,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Were  you  to  talk  to  him  you'd  find  him  positively 
ugly ;  he  has  not  an  atom  of  expression,  he  has  a 
most  sickly,  conceited  smile,  he  says  *  aw,'  like  old 
Mr.  Hawke,  but  much  more  often,  and  '  heear '  for 
'  hear  '  and  '  beear  '  for  '  beer  ' ;  and  he  also 
stammers  a  little.  If  Florence  were  with  us  she'd 
agree  in  every  word  I  say.  At  all  events,  she  does 
not  think  him  good-looking." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?"  I  asked,  longing  to 
believe  her  and  thoroughly  doubting  what  she  said 
at  the  same  time — a  truly  miserable  condition  of 
mind  to  be  in. 

"Are  not  you  sure?"  she  replied.  "Why,  she 
called  him  a  fool  to  your  face  once ;  don't  you 
remember?  And  do  you  think  a  woman  would 
speak  like  that  of  a  man  she  admired  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  she  was  talking  of  his  brains,  not  of 
his  appearance,"  said  I.  "  Confound  the  fellow  ! 
I  wish  I  had  never  seen  him.     I  never  supposed 


I  POUR  OUT  MY  SOUL.  225 

that  be  was  much  more  than  a  soft,  clean-faced, 
under-sized  fop." 

"  He's  not  much  more,  whatever  you  may  think," 
said  she  ;  "  and  if  Florence  does  not  admire  him — 
which  I  know  to  be  the  case ;  didn't  she  once  say 
to  me  he  had  a  most  inane  countenance  ? — why 
will  you  allow  such  trifling  matters  as  a  moustache 
and  an  eye-glass  to  worry  you  ?  Why,  at  that 
rate  an  umbrella  or  a  walking-stick  will  be  dis- 
turbing your  peace  of  mind  next.  Depend  upon 
it,  Mr.  Reginald  Morecombe  is  not  to  Florence's 
taste." 

"  What  is  to  her  taste  ?  Can  you  imagine  ?  " 
said  I,  letting  conviction  creep  into  me  bit  by  bit, 
like  an  eel  working  its  way  into  the  mud.  Here 
my  warm-hearted  cousin  did  me  the  honour  to 
closely  describe  Jack  Seymour.  Yes  ;  she  said 
that  what  Florence  liked  was  a  Roman  nose — not 
a  hook,  but  a  bumpkin  or  outrigger  of  the  proper 
classic  kind ;  plenty  of  brown  hair,  elegantly 
tossed  off  the  manly  brow  as  if  recently  combed  by 
a  gale  of  wind ;  a  tolerable  mouth,  fairish  teeth, 
and  a  small  honest  moustache — not  a  great  heap 
of  hair,  which  might  conceal  nobody  could  tell 
what,  and  which  when  shaved  off  might  leave  a 
most  dreadful  and  wonderful  change  behind.  And 
so  my  kind  cousin  talked  on,  making  beauties  of 
my  imperfections  and  overpowering  me  with  the 
glimpses  of   my  own  charms  she  enabled  me  to 

VOL.  I.  Q 


226  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

snatch.  It  was  hard  not  to  "believe  all  she  said ; 
my  vanity,  my  hopes,  my  love  were  all  on  her  side. 
But  her  adamantine  amiability,  that  was  proof 
against  my  intolerable  egotism, — that  did  not 
crumble  and  fall  down  before  the  battery  of  such 
questions  as,  "And  you  really  think  she  admires  me 
more  than  Mr.  Morecombe  ?"  "  And  you  honestly 
believe,  Sophie,  that  she  likes  me?"  "And 
your  opinion  is  that  if  I  could  only  manage  to  meet 
her  a  few  times  it  would  end  in  my  winning  her 
love?"  "And  you  are  sure  that  her  father  will 
never  induce  her  to  accept  Mr.  Morecombe  ?  "  I 
can  only  recall  with  veneration  and  amazement. 
How  I  plied  her,  poor  girl !  Sometimes  I  apolo- 
gized; sometimes  I  would  say,  "Ton  my  word,  I 
am  very  unreasonable ;  I  have  no  right  to  be 
worrying  you  in  this  fashion.  I  ought  not  to  bore 
you  with  all  this  talk."  But  whether  it  was  that 
she  enjoyed  the  conversation  and  would  not  let  me 
drift  out  of  it,  or  that  I  could  not  find  anything 
else  to  talk  about,  it  always  happened  that  I  regu- 
larly returned  to  the  subject  of  Florence  Hawke, 
what  she  thought  of  me,  my  chances,  what  I  ought 
to  do,  and  the  like. 

We  were  wandering  along  side  by  side,  like  a 
pair  of  lovers  deep  in  conversation,  when  she 
suddenly  caught  hold  of  my  arm,  came  to  a  dead 
stop,  compelling  me  to  halt  likewise,  and  exclaimed 
with  a  sort  of  consternation  in  her  manner,  "  Good 


I  POUR   OUT  MY   SOUL.  227 

gracious,  Jack,  there's  Florence  in  front  of  us  ! 
and  there's  Emily  in  that  Bath  chair."  We  were 
somewhere  ahout  where  the  St.  Vincent  Bocks 
Hotel  now  stands  ;  there  was  no  suspension  bridge 
in  those  days.  I  could  see  some  distance  along  the 
road,  that  had  a  railing  down  one  side  of  it, 
leaving  a  wide  margin  of  edge  where  the  precipi- 
tous cliff  fell,  and  about  a  couple  of  hundred  paces 
ahead  of  us,  there,  sure  enough,  was  a  Bath  chair, 
dragged  by  a  man  with  some  silver  on  his  hat,  and 
walking  close  alongside  of  it  was  Florence  Hawke, 
though,  had  not  Sophie  told  me  it  was  she,  I  should 
certainly  not  have  recognized  her  at  that  distance. 
They  were  going  our  way,  and  their  backs  were 
towards  us.  The  Bath  chair  went  along  very 
slowly,  and  when  we  stopped,  Miss  Hawke  stopped 
and  looked  towards  the  river,  and  then  rejoined  her 
sister. 

"Let  us  go  on,  Sophie,  let  us  go  on!"  I 
exclaimed,  hearing  my  heart  drumming  in  my  ears 
as  if  Punch  and  Judy  were  not  far  off. 

"What  are  we  to  do,  Jack?"  cried  she. 
"  Ought  we  to  join  them  ?  What  will  mamma 
say?" 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  don't  let  us  lose  sight  of 
them,"  I  replied,  catching  hold  of  her  arm  and 
obliging  her  to  walk.  "We  can  argue  the  matter 
moving,  can't  we  ?  What  can  your  mamma  say  ? 
She  doesn't  want  you  to  cut  Miss  Hawke.     This 


228  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

meeting  is  purely  accidental — it  is  what  I  have  been 
longing  and  praying  for — don't  think  of  anybody 
but  me  at  this  moment."  And  tightening  my  clutch 
of  her  arm  I  forced  her  to  step  out. 

"  Well,  as  you  say,  it's  purely  accidental,"  said 
the  good-natured  girl,  fast  losing  her  breath.  "  I 
certainly  cannot  be  disobeying  mamma  by  speaking 
to  Florence  when  we  meet,  although  you  are  with 
me." 

"  And  you  have  met  her,"  cried  I,  "  after  an 
Irish  fashion,  certainly ;  but  we'll  make  it  a  proper 
meeting." 

As  we  drew  near  I  actually  trembled  with  excite- 
ment and  nervousness.  I  never  gave  the  circum- 
stance of  Miss  Emily  being  with  her  sister  a 
thought.  All  that  I  felt  was  that  I  was  going  to 
meet  and  see  and  speak  to  the  girl  I  was  deeply  in 
love  with,  and  whom  I  had  done  nothing  but  think 
of,  and  dream  of,  and  worry  over,  and  speculate 
upon  ever  since  the  first  night  I  had  set  foot  in 
Clifton.  Why  wouldn't  she  look  round  and  see  us 
coming?  This  stern-chase  doubled  my  nervous- 
ness, more  especially  as  the  pair  of  us  threatened 
to  blunder  alongside  short  of  breath  and  scare  the 
darling  by  our  sudden  apparition  and  invasion. 
We  were  within  twenty  feet  of  the  Bath  chair  when 
Emily  turned  her  head  and  spied  us.  Perhaps 
she  did  not  immediately  recognize  us,  for  she  took 
another  short  squint  before  speaking  to  her  sister. 


I  POUR   OUT  MY   SOUL.  229 

Instantly  Florence  stopped  and  looked;  for  a 
moment  she  bung  in  the  wind,  I  fancied,  as  if 
she  did  not  know  what  to  do  ;  then  with  a  bright 
smile  she  advanced,  gave  Sophie  a  kiss,  and 
extended  her  hand  to  me. 

Mates,  shaking  hands  with  a  girl  you  love  is  a 
wonderful  sensation.  I  could  scarcely  let  go  of 
the  soft,  tender,  velvet-like  gloved  fingers;  and 
frightened,  shy,  palpitating,  and  excited  as  I  was, 
the  delight  kindled  in  my  face  I  could  guess  at  by 
seeing  the  effect  of  it  in  hers. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Sophie,"  said  she. 
"  How  is  it  you  have  not  called  ?  You  owe  me  a 
visit,  you  know,"  and  she  smiled  archly. 

But  the  fellow  that  was  hauling  the  Bath  chair 
along  had  come  to  a  stand  ;  Miss  Emily  had  to  be 
saluted,  and  we  went  to  her.  She  looked  at  me 
with  amazement  as  I  raised  my  hat.  She  did 
not  attempt  to  disguise  her  wonder.  Nothing  was 
more  certain  than  that  she  had  not  the  least  idea 
I  was  still  in  Bristol ;  whence,  quick  as  lightning, 
I  inferred  that  Florence  had  kept  the  fact  of  my 
having  taken  lodgings  in  the  neighbourhood  a 
secret  from  her  father  and  sister.  A  noble 
augury  for  me,  as  what  lover  will  doubt  ?  Could 
the  poor  delicate  creature  have  had  her  way,  she 
would  have  ordered  the  flunkey  to  wheel  her  home. 
This  was  as  plain  as  mud  in  a  wine-glass  by  her 
first  movement  of  surprise  at  seeing  me  and  the 


230  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

marked  coolness  of  her  manner  immediately  after- 
wards. But,  Heaven  be  praised!  she  was  too 
young  to  be  dangerous  in  that  way.  Sophie,  who 
was  anxiously  smiling  and  red  as  a  cook  with  the 
heat,  for  I  had  dragged  her  along  without  cere- 
mony, said,  "Don't  let  us  keep  you  standing. 
We  are  going  your  way :  "  and  forthwith  the 
silver-hatted  gentleman  touched  his  hat,  bent  his 
back,  and  off  we  started. 

We  all  kept  together  at  the  beginning.  I  had 
very  little  to  say,  and  indeed  just  then  was  hardly 
able  to  do  more  than  look.  Occasionally  Entity 
would  stare  at  me  as  if  I  had  just  clambered  out 
of  the  river  over  the  cliff;  but  I  took  no  notice; 
I  had  no  eyes  but  for  Florence.  Could  I  pretend 
to  know  how  she  was  dressed?  what  sort  of  hat 
she  wore  ?  what  colour  her  parasol  was  ?  Depend 
upon  it,  a  man  is  not  very  far  gone  when  he  notes 
his  girl's  attire.  Why,  confound  him,  whatever 
she  has  on  will  be  in  the  most  delicious  taste  in 
the  world  when  he  is  in  love,  and  that  is  all  he 
will  be  able  to  say  about  it.  What  I  remember 
of  Florence  that  day  was  her  face  and  figure.  It 
was  her  beauty  that  clothed  her — nothing  more. 

Well,  we  all  tried  to  appear  at  the  first  going  off 
as  if  nothing  whatever  had  happened — as  if  I  were 
not  in  love,  as  if  Florence  didn't  know  I  was  in 
love,  as  if  Alphonso  Hawke  were  on  the  friendliest 
terms   with   the    Seymours,  as   if  there   were  no 


I  POUR   OUT  MY   SOUL.  231 

Morecombe,  no  Bristol  lodgings,  no  blood  wanted 
— no  nothing.  Emily  was  horribly  cool,  certainly, 
and  the  eagerness  in  her  soul  to  tell  papa  was 
visible  in  her  sickly  lineaments.  But  we  did  not 
mind  her;  Florence  talked  of  the  weather,  I  of 
the  dust,  and  Sophie  of  the  curate  of  St.  Andrew's. 
At  last  Sophie  said  something  to  Emily,  first 
stealing  a  peep  at  me  that  I  might  see  my  chance. 
My  heart  set  off  afresh ;  but  I  was  resolved  that 
nervousness  should  not  hinder  me.  A  time  had 
come  for  which  I  had  been  praying ;  so  girding 
up  my  loins  (in  an  intellectual  sense,  of  course), 
I  took  a  lateral  step  that  brought  my  arm  against 
Florence's,  and  said  in  a  low  voice,  "I  was  afraid 
I  should  never  see  you  again." 

She  coloured  up — how  could  she  remember  I 
had  told  her  that  I  loved  her  and  not  appreciate 
the  significance  of  this  meeting  and  of  every  word 
I  could  say  in  her  private  ear  ? — and  answered, 
"  I  heard  from  Sophie  that  you  had  taken  lodgings 
in  Bristol.  I  hope  you  are  comfortable,  though 
you  don't  deserve  to  be  for  giving  up  your  kind 
relatives'  home." 

"  I  did  that  for  your  sake,"  said  I. 

"  I  know  you  did,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  am 
sorry  to  have  been  the  cause." 

(I  saw  Emily  staring  at  us.  Meanwhile  Sophie 
talked  fast  to  her.) 

"  I  would  do  anything  for  your  sake,"  said  I. 


232  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  The  one  hardship  is  the  rare  chance  of  meeting 
you.  Why  is  your  father  prejudiced  against  me  ? 
He  does  not  know  me.  Could  I  help  falling  in 
love  with  you  ?  He  is  to  blame  for  having  for  a 
daughter  the  loveliest  girl  in  the  world." 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense,  Mr.  Seymour,"  said  she, 
turning  her  face  aside  and  smiling.  (We  had 
dropped  about  a  fathom  astern  of  the  Bath  chair 
and  right  in  the  wake  of  it ;  so  Emily  could  not 
go  on  looking  without  straining  her  neck.)  And 
then  raising  her  sweet  eyes  to  me,  she  said,  "  If  a 
landsman  talked  to  me  as  you  do,  I  should  walk 
away,  I  should  be  angry.  But  I  can  forgive  a 
very  great  deal  in  a  young  man  who  has  been  to 
sea  as  a  sailor." 

"And  why?  because  if  he's  a  real  sailor  he'll 
speak  the  truth — as  I  do.  Do  you  doubt  my 
sincerity  ?  Do  you  think  I  am  only  flattering 
you  ?  Heaven  forgive  you,  if  you  suppose  that ! 
I  can  tell  you  that  you  have  made  me  the  most 
wretched  creature  in  existence.  I  am  in  love  with 
you,  and  my  love  puts  you  a  thousand  leagues 
further  away  from  me  than  were  I  to  like  you 
only  as  an  acquaintance.  For,  before,  we  could 
meet,  I  could  talk  to  you,  I  could  be  in  your 
presence  and  look  at  you ;  now  I  go  on  day  after 
day  with  nothing  upon  earth  to  console  me  but 
your  likeness." 

She  was  a  little  scared  by  my  impassioned  man- 


I   POUR    OUT  MY   SOUL.  233 

ner,  which  put  a  kind  of  iinpetuousness  into  my 
Toice. 

"  There  is  no  need  for  you  to  be  wretched,"  said 
she. 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  cried  I,  grasping  at 
the  straw.  "  Only  tell  me  that  I  may  hope — I 
ask  for  no  more  now — and  you'll  make  me  the 
gladdest  fellow  in  the  world." 

"  I'll  tell  you  nothing  at  all,"  she  answered. 
M  I  wish  you  would  not  think  of  me.  Indeed,  Mr. 
Seymour,  I  ought  not  to  talk  to  you." 

"  See  here,  Miss  Hawke — no,  I'll  call  you  Florence 
— you  may  not  like  it ;  hut  I'm  determined  to  get 
one  happy  memory  out  of  all  this  worry ;  will  you 
answer  a  question  ?  " 

"You  mustn't  call  me  Florence,"  said  she 
smiling. 

"Why  not?"  said  I.  "How  cruel  you  are. 
You  will  not  yield  an  inch."  She  returned  no 
answer.  "  Since  you  object  I  will  not  call  you 
Florence." 

11  You  may  say  it  once,  but  only  once,"  said  she, 
turning  her  head  away  again. 

"  May  I  put  something  before  it." 

94  What '?  "  she  inquired,  rather  breathlessly. 

"May  I  say  -darling  Florence'?"  I  cried, 
feeling  that  if  that  abominable  Bath  chair  were 
out  of  sight  I  should  seize  her  hand. 

"Oh  no,  certainly  not,"  she  exclaimed,  honestly 


234  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

frightened.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Seymour — you  told  me  I 
would  not  give  you  an  inch,  and  now  you  are 
wanting  to  take  a  whole  mile  !  " 

"  Well,  I'll  not  call  you  darling— I'll  think  it— 
I'll  say  Florence — will  you  answer  a  question  ?  " 

"  I'll  see  when  you  ask  it." 

I  put  nry  face  close  to  her  and  said,  "  Have  I 
anything  to  fear  from  Mr.  Keginald  Morecombe  ?  " 

"  I'll  answer  that,"  she  replied  at  once  ; 
"  though  you  are  not  nice  in  putting  it  in  that 
way.     My  reply  is  '  No  '  !  " 

It  was  a  wonder  I  did  not  burst  into  a  horn- 
pipe. 

"  Oh,  Florence  !  "  I  cried,  "  if  you  only  knew — 
if  you  could  only  conceive  the  weight  your  answer 
takes  off  my  mind." 

"  You  have  called  me  Florence  twice,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  You  are  not  fair.  But  let  us  join  the 
others.     Emily  will  be  wondering " 

"Give .me  another  moment,"  said  I.  "I  may 
not  meet  you  for  a  long  time  again,  and  I  shall 
have  nothing  but  this  little  conversation  to  live 
upon." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  meet  soon  then,  for  your  sake," 
she  exclaimed,  "  for  how  thin  you  will  become  if 
we  don't !  " 

"I  certainly  shall — joking  apart.  Already  I 
feel  as  if  I  were  wronging  Nature  by  not  being  a 
shadow.     For  my   sake  you   hope  we  shall  meet 


I  POUR   OUT  MY  SOUL.  235 

soon,  you  say.  Will  you  tell  me  how  I  am  to 
meet  you?  " 

"Indeed  I  cannot,"  she  replied,  "and  therefore 
you  ought  to  return  to  your  uncle  instead  of  living 
foolishly  in  apartments." 

"  But  Mrs.  Seymour  respects  your  father's 
wishes,"  said  I.  "  She  thinks  if  we  were  to  meet 
at  her  house  Mr.  Hawke  would  consider  her  un- 
neighbourly. How  miserable  it  is  to  be  dependent 
on  others  !  "  And  then,  perceiving  that  she  was 
making  little  feints  to  leave  me,  and  would  certainly 
be  off  in  a  moment  or  two,  I  exclaimed,  "  Florence, 
before  we  join  the  others  will  you  tell  me  that  you 
like  me  a  little  bit  ?  " 

She  laughed  and  said,  "  Of  course  I  like  you 
a  little  bit ;  "  and  then  afraid,  no  doubt,  that  this 
would  lead  to  a  larger  question  she  made  sail,  and 
we  drew  alongside  the  Bath  chair. 

There's  a  good  deal  of  imbecility  in  what  I  have 
written,  my  lads,  but  how  am  I  to  explain  what  an 
amount  of  'bouting-ship  there  was  in  my  courtship 
if  I  don't  tell  you  what  I  said  to  my  sweetheart 
when  I  made  love  to  her  ?  Besides,  who  expects 
good  sense  in  love-making  ?  Only  Frenchmen 
court  wittily,  and  shall  I  tell  you  why  ?  because 
they  are  never  in  earnest.  When  John  Bull  offers 
his  heart  he  means  it.  Yes,  he  kneels  down  in  his 
great  boots,  makes  a  fool  of  himself,  rumbles  out 
nonsense  in  bad  grammar ;  but  there's  conscience 


236  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

in  his  twaddle.  There  was  sincerity  in  mine ;  I 
meant  all  that  I  said,  and  so  yon  have  the  best 
excuse  I  can  offer  for  asking  you  to  listen  to  this 
stuff. 

We  ranged  alongside  the  Bath  chair,  as  I  have 
said,  and  Sophie  at  once  quitted  Emily  for  her 
sister.  Nobody  would  have  required  a  telescope 
to  judge  from  Florence's  and  my  appearance  that 
we  had  been  enjoying  a  rather  earnest  conversa- 
tion. Her  face  was  flushed,  her  eyes  were  bright, 
and  there  was  an  odd  and  fascinating  expression 
of  mirth,  puzzlement,  gratification,  and  bother  upon 
her.  Miss  Emily  was  chillingly  shy  as  I  stepped 
up  to  her.  And  what  a  Bath  chair  was  hers  !  a 
private  turn-out,  worthy  of  Alphonso,  superbly  lined 
and  finished,  and  his  confounded  old  goose  or  duck 
writ  large  on  the  stern  and  sides  of  it.  But  I  was 
too  mellow,  too  sanguine,  too  intoxicated  by  what 
had  passed  between  Florence  and  me  to  allow  this 
poor  feeble  little  girl  to  repel  me. 

"  I  thought  you  had  left  Clifton  ?  "  said  she. 

"  So  I  have,"  I  replied,  smiling  with  the  energy 
of  a  shopman  in  my  desire  to  look  amiable. 

"  Yes,"  says  she,  "  but  you  have  not  gone  very 
far  away." 

"  True,"  I  observed,  guessing  that  Sophie  had 
told  her  I  lodged  in  Bristol;  "but  I  am  so 
charmed  by  the  scenery  here,"  said  I,  hypocriti- 
cally, casting  my  eyes  around  the  prospect,  "that 


I  POUR  OUT  MY  SOUL.  237 

I   could    not    prevail  upon  myself    to   return  to 
London." 

Of  course  she  knew  better ;  indeed  she  looked 
at  me  as  much  as  to  say,  "You  are  a  horrid  story- 
teller. But  never  mind.  Papa  shall  hear  of  all 
this."  She  was  desperately  hard  to  talk  to.  She 
gave  me  but  little  more  than  monosyllables.  I 
asked  after  her  health,  and  she  returned  me  a 
reply  that  was  like  bidding  me  mind  my  own 
business.  I  then  inquired  after  Mr.  Morecombe's 
sprain,  and  this  seemed  to  freeze  her  up.  There 
was  no  chance  for  amiability  here.  I  had  hoped 
when  we  met  at  her  house  that  she  was  a  girl  I 
could  "  get  on  with,"  as  the  phrase  goes.  But  she 
was  her  papa's  child;  she  had  heard  him  talk 
about  me ;  she  was  jealous,  suspicious,  peevish, 
anxious  to  be  off  and  cany  her  tales  with  her,  after 
the  manner  of  others  of  her  lovely  sex,  who  in  the 
sacred  name  of  loyalty  to  papa  and  mamma  and 
the  family  dignity  oppose  their  pretty  sisters  when 
lovers  heave  in  sight  and  bear  down ;  and,  hard 
as  I  tried,  I  could  make  nothing  of  her.  Mean- 
while Sophie  and  Florence  had  dropped  astern  and 
were  deep  in  talk.  I  was  anxious  that  they  should 
not  be  interrupted,  as  I  easily  guessed  that  my 
cousin  would  make  Jack  Seymour  the  topic  between 
them,  and  perhaps  end  in  getting  Florence  to 
consent  to  an  occasional  accidental  meeting  with 
me ;  and  this  wish  it  was  that  they  should  have 


238  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

plenty  of  leisure  for  conversation  that  held  me 
close  alongside  the  Bath  chair,  saying  whatever 
came  into  my  head,  and  by  my  incessant  jabber 
fending  off  any  desire  Emily  might  have  to  order 
the  fellow  in  the  cockade  to  drag  her  away. 

At  last  we  came  to  a  road  that  obliged  us  to  say 
good-bye,  unless  we  had  a  mind  to  accompany 
Florence  and  the  Bath  chair  to  Clifton  Lodge, 
which  would  have  been  indiscreet.  We  stood 
talking  a  few  minutes,  and  then  Florence  put  out 
her  hand  to  me.  As  I  held  it  I  whispered,  "Do 
give  me  a  chance  of  meeting  you  again  soon?" 
"I  will  see,"  she  answered.  More  than  this  it 
would  not  have  been  wise  to  say,  for  Emily's  eyes 
were  upon  us ;  nor  was  I  surprised  that  there 
should  have  been  an  expression  of  real  wonder  in 
them,  for  there  was  something  in  Florence's  face  as 
she  said  "  I  will  see,"  and  in  her  posture  as  I  stood 
holding  her  hand,  that  must  have  been  a  revela- 
tion to  the  poor  little  suspicious  invalid.  I  raised 
my  hat,  the  wheels  of  the  Bath  chair  went  round, 
and  Sophie  and  I  turned  our  faces  homewards. 

"Well,  Jack,"  said  my  cousin,  "do  you  feel 
happier  in  your  mind  now  that  you  have  met 
Florence  ?  " 

"  Ay,  my  darling,  fit  to  stand  upon  my  head," 

I  exclaimed.     "  Isn't  she "     And  here  I  ran 

through  adjectives  enough  to  fill  a  page.     "  Sophie, 
I  am  positive  she  begins  to  like  me  seriously." 


I  POUR   OUT   MY   SOUL.  239 

"  So  am  I.  But  what  do  you  think  she  told 
me?" 

"  Don't  ask  questions !  "  cried  I  in  an  agony  of 
curiosity.     "Whip  it  out,  Sophie." 

"  Mr.  Morecombe  has  proposed  to  her." 

"The  devil!"  I  exclaimed,  coming  to  a  dead 
stand.     "When?" 

"Last  evening." 

"And  what  was  her  answer?"  said  I,  very 
nearly  breathless. 

"  She  gave  him  a  flat  refusal,  Jack — a  flat 
refusal !  "  shouted  the  delicious  creature,  breaking 
into  a  loud  laugh  and  clapping  her  hands.  There 
was  an  old  woman  in  a  large  bonnet  and  a  green 
veil,  dragged  along  by  a  strong  white  dog,  some 
distance  behind  us ;  but  I  did  not  heed  her.  In 
my  transport  I  seized  hold  of  Sophie,  danced  her 
into  the  middle  of  the  road  and  back  again  on  to 
the  footpath ;  and  so  heedless  was  my  ecstasy, 
that  I  not  only  paid  no  attention  to  her  cries,  but 
I  did  not  even  know  that  my  hat  had  fallen  off 
until  I  spied  it  in  the  road,  whereupon  I  kicked 
it  into  the  air,  caught  it  as  it  fell,  and  laughing 
with  all  my  might,  took  Sophie's  arm  and  started 
afresh.  She  tried  to  look  indignant  at  me  for 
being  so  rough,  but  it  would  not  do  ;  my  face  must 
have  been  one  surface  of  shining  delight.  She 
took  a  look  and  burst  into  such  a  fit  of  merriment 
that  the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks;    so  that 


240  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

what  with  this  coming  on  top  of  her  involuntary 
waltz,  she  had  a  perfectly  dissipated  appearance, 
her  hair  in  disorder,  and  her  hat  most  ludicrously 
cocked. 

"  Flatly  refused  him !  What  d'ye  think  of  that?  " 
cried  I,  squeezing  her  plump  arm.  "  Flatly 
refused  him  !  What  a  noble  girl !  What  a  piece 
of  news  !     And  Alphonso  ?  " 

"  She  says  that  her  father  was  in  a  great  rage, 
and  has  scarcely  opened  his  lips  to  her  since." 

"And  Eeginaldo,  the  proprietor  of  blood — what 
does  he  think?  " 

"  She  did  not  say  much  about  him.  Her  words 
to  me  were,  (  Sophie,  I  do  not  like  him,  and  I  will 
not  have  him.  I  am  very  sorry.  It  grieves  me  to 
oppose  papa's  wishes ;  but  I  cannot  consent  to  link 
my  life  with  that  of  a  man  who  is  stupid  and 
conceited,  for  whose  character  I  have  not  the  least 
respect.'  " 

"Are  not  those  beautiful  sentiments  ?"  I  cried. 
"What  a  grand  woman  she  is  !  Oh,  Sophie,  if  I 
perish  in  the  effort,  I  must  go  on  struggling  to  win 
her." 

"Didn't  I  say  from  the  beginning  she  would 
never  accept  Mr.  Morecombe  ?  " 

"You  did,"  I  replied;  "and  you  are  a  grand 
woman  too.  But  now  that  the  youth's  offer  has 
been  declined,  I  suppose  he'll  not  be  mean-spirited 
enough  to  go  on  remaining  at  old  Hawke's  house, 


I  TOUR  OUT  MY  SOUL.  241 

will  he  ?  Yet  I  saw  him  in  Mr.  Hawke's  carriage 
this  morning.  Doesn't  he  mean  to  c/o,  confound 
him  ?  Is  he  so  great  a  fool  as  not  even  to  have 
any  instincts  as  a  man  ?  " 

"  Florence  thinks  he  will  return  to  London  when 
his  foot  is  strong  enough  to  stand  on,"  replied 
Sophie.  "  But  she  quite  gave  me  to  understand 
that  though  he  goes  he'll  not  go  for  good.  He  has 
no  intention  of  giving  her  up.  Oh  dear  no !  he  ! 
he  !  he !  Men  like  Mr.  Morecomhe  are  not  in  the 
habit  of  taking  no  for  an  answer.  Besides,  her 
papa  will  not  let  himself  be  beaten  without  a 
desperate  fight." 

"  Only  let  Florence  complain  to  me  that  this 
fellow  troubles  her,"  said  I  between  my  teeth. 
"  I'll  leave  him  no  brains  to  make  love  with.  Let 
her  complain  to  me." 

"There's  more  news  yet,"  said  Sophie.  "The 
day  before  yesterday  Mr.  Hawke  received  a  letter 
from  his  sister,  a  spinster,  named  Dainaris,  who 
lives  in  Sydney,  saying  she  was  coming  on  a  visit 
to  them.  The  letter  was  posted  a  week  or  two 
before  she  sailed,  so  she'll  be  here  soon." 

"  What  do  you  call  her  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Damaris — Aunt  Damaris." 

"  A  pretty  name.     And  what  does  she  want  ?  " 

"  A  change,  I  suppose.  If  she  is  like  her 
brother,  and  sides  with  him,  there'll  be  more 
affliction  sore  for  Florence,  I  fear." 

VOL.  I.  R 


242  JACK'S   COUETSHIP. 

"  Florence  need  only  come  to  me,'\I  exclaimed. 
ii  I'll  protect  her,  though  everybody  in  Australia 
was  a  relation  and  they  all  arrived  this  evening. 
Oh,  that  she  would  come  at  once,  Sophie  ! " 

"  Upon  my  word,  if  things  go  on  as  they  are, 
Jack,  I  believe  you'll  end  in  making  her  come," 
said  she.  "  To  render  a  girl's  home  miserable 
can  hardly  be  the  right  way  for  a  father  to  control 
her  as  he  would  like.  Emily  of  course  will  tell  her 
papa  that  she  and  Florence  met  us,  and  that  will 
create  another  scene." 

"  Yes  ;  and  you  are  aware,  Sophie,  that  Emily, 
and  therefore  of  course  old  Hawke,  did  not  know 
that  I  was  living  at  Bristol  ?  " 

"Florence  is  a  sly  puss,"  she  replied.  "  I  was 
really  more  surprised  by  Emily's  ignorance  than 
she  was  surprised  by  seeing  you.  The  fact  of 
Florence  keeping  your  movements  a  secret  from 
her  family  looks  well  for  you,  Jack  ;  though  is  it 
quite  proper  that  she  should  do  so  ?  " 

This'was  challenging  my  darling's  integrity ;  so  I 
said,  of  course  it  was  proper.  My  movements  were 
not  supposed  to  form  any  part  of  Florence's 
business.  What  right  had  her  father  to  expect 
that  she  should  talk  to  him  about  me,  and  appear 
to  know  what  I  was  doing  when  he  had  prohibited 
her  from  calling  at  my  uncle's  house  for  fear  that 
she  should  meet  me  ?  It  was  not  a  question  of 
her  frankness  or  honesty.     A  girl  might  hear  of 


I  POUR   OUT  MY   SOUL.  243 

many  things  she  ^vould  not  trouble  herself  to 
repeat. 

"Well,  it  may  be  as  you  say,"  said  Sophie; 
"  and,  at  any  rate,  if  she  has  not  been  quite  so 
candid  with  her  papa  as  strict  people  might 
consider  it  her  duty  to  be,  the  only  person  that 
ought  to  be  blamed  is  Mr.  Hawke.  And  now,  Jack, 
what  shall  we  say  when  we  get  home  ?  " 

"  Whatever  you  please,  my  dear." 

"  We  had  better  tell  everything,"  said  she. 

'  •  You  will,  whether  we  agree  to  hold  our  tongues 
01  not,"  said  I. 

She  laughed  and  exclaimed:  "I  must  give 
Amelia  the  news  about  Mr.  Morecombe.  And 
mamma  will  be  so  interested!  Besides,  the 
meeting  was  entirely  accidental — we  can  both 
solemnly  declare  that !  " 

"Ay,  on  our  knees  if  required,"  said  I.  And  as 
I  spoke  we  arrived  at  my  uncle's  house. 


241  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

I    RECEIVE    A   VISIT. 

Our  conversation  at  dinner  that  day,  when  the 
dessert  was  on  the  table  and  Cobb  the  man-servant 
had  carried  his  large  ears  out  of  the  room,  was  all 
about  Florence  and  Mr.  Morecoinbe.  Of  course 
Sophie  had  told  her  mamma  and  Amelia  everything, 
and  more  than  everything  ;  enough  had  transpired, 
as  newspapers  say,  during  the  earlier  stages  of  the 
dinner  to  make  my  uncle  acquainted^with  the  news, 
and  therefore  all  that  we  had  to  do  was  to  speculate 
and  ejaculate,  and  wonder  how  Mr.  Hawke  would 
act  now,  and  whether  Aunt  Damaris  would  side 
with  her  brother  or  her  niece,  and  what  would  be 
the  result  when  Emily  told  her  papa  that  I  was 
lodging  in  Bristol  and  had  been  walking  with 
Florence — yes,  and  making  love  to  her  ? 

I  never  should  have  supposed  that  my  uncle  was 
a  man  to  take  any  interest  in  such  parish  matters 
as  this ;  and  yet  I  assure  you  his  curiosity  was  as 
lively  as  that  of  the  others  ;  he  thoroughly  relished 


I   RECEIVE   A   VISIT.  245 

the  conversation,  and  asked  questions  and  ventured 
ideas  and  passed  his  little  jokes  with  surprising 
enjoyment  of  the  subject.  But  my  notion  is  that 
men  have  as  keen  a  taste  for  small-talk  as  ladies, 
though  they  pretend  that  it  is  only  women  who 
like  it  and  make  it.  Many  a  man  have  I  caught 
listening  attentively  and  with  strong  satisfaction 
depicted  on  his  striking  countenance  to  the  cheapest 
gossip  about  Miss  Jenkins's  marriage,  his  lord- 
ship's elopement,  the  squire's  meanness,  and  his 
reverence's  quarrel  with  the  churchwarden.  I 
have  seen  bland  old  fellows  sitting  at  the  head  of 
the  tables  helping  the  scandal  talked  by  their 
wives  and  daughters  by  nods  and  inquiries  and 
small  insignificant  observations.  It  makes  me 
laugh  to  recall  our  conversation.  The  picture  of 
that  room  rises :  my  uncle's  hairy,  kindly  face, 
with  his  great  Eoman  nose,  like  the  beak  of  a 
flamingo,  standing  out  over  his  moustache,  and  his 
small  shrewd  eyes  fuU  of  merriment  and  curiosity  ; 
my  aunt  opposite  him,  handsome,  well-dressed, 
trying  to  keep  a  firm  hold  of  her  sense  of  her  duty 
towards  her  neighbours,  and  repeatedly  letting  go ; 
Amelia,  fat,  confident  and  knowing,  and  Sophie, 
slightly  hysterical,  very  poetical,  and  with  a 
disposition  to  languish  whenever  a  sentimental 
point  was  touched  upon.  I  took  particular  notice 
that  my  uncle  did  not  attempt  to  banter  me. 
d,    his    behaviour    suggested    that    he    was 


246  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 

inclined  to  view  me  as  a  considerable  person  who 
had  achieved  a  remarkable  conquest,  and  of  whose 
future  it  was  not  easy  to  conjecture  the  extent 
and  importance. 

"  If  Sophie's  right,"  said  he,  "  and  I  don't  know 
why  she  shouldn't  be  right,  for  she  takes  after  her 
mother," looking  at  her  contemplatively,  "I  should 
say,  Jack,  that  Florence  Hawke  is  in  love  with  you." 

"  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  of  it,"  exclaimed 
Sophie. 

"Well,  then,"  continued  he,  "if  that  be  so,  all 
that  remains  is  to  excite  a  feeling  of  affection  for 
you  in  Alphonso  Hawke,  and  you'll  have  nothing 
more  to  do  than  write  out  an  impromptu  speech 
and  get  it  by  heart  ready  to  deliver  when  the  old 
chap  proposes  your  health  at  the  breakfast." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  my  aunt,  shaking  her  head. 
"that  it  will  take  Mr.  Jack  a  long  while  to  make 
Mr.  Hawke  fond  of  him." 

"  What  Tm  thinking  of  all  the  time  is,  what 
will  Mr.  Hawke  say  to  Florence  when  he  hears 
that  she  and  Jack  have  been  together  this  after- 
noon ?  "  said  Amelia. 

"  Do  you  think  Emily  will  tell  ? "  asked  my 
uncle. 

"Tell  !  "  cried  Sophie.  "Oh,  papa,  the  inten- 
tion I  saw  in  her  face  was  so  strong  that  it  was 
enough  to  set  the  Bath  chair  rolling  by  itself  to 
Clifton  Lodge." 


I  RECEIVE  A  VISIT.  217 

"I  sincerely  trust,"  observed  my  aunt.,  "that 
Mr.  Hawke  will  quite  understand,  Sophie,  that 
your  meeting  with  Florence  was  purely  accidental." 

"  Matters  have  come  to  such  a  pass,"  said  my 
uncle,  "that,  let  Mr,  Hawke  understand  what  he 
will,  my  opinion  is  he'll  think  the  same.  But  I 
hope  he'll  not  be  unkind  to  his  daughter." 

"  I  hope  not,  too,"  said  I,  kindling. 

"After  all,  what  can  he  do  ?  "  asked  Sophie. 

" Ay,  what  can  he  do?"  echoed  my  uncle. 
"  Depend  upon  it,  when  a  woman  resolves  for 
good  or  for  ill  she'll  have  her  wa}T,  though  her 
father  should  lock  her  up  in  the  Tower  of  London 
and  all  the  City  Police  should  stand  in  the  moat 
with  their  truncheons  shouldered.  What's  that 
old  song  about  locks,  bolts,  and  bars  ?  Isn't 
it  called  'The  Wolf?  Jack,  there's  no  wolf 
in  the  world  to  equal  love.  Cupid  indeed !  D'ye 
know,  I've  but  a  poor  opinion  of  the  ancients  for 
making  a  bit  of  a  baby  with  a  pair  of  wings  on 
its  back  stand  for  the  passion  that  moves  the 
world.  Egad  !  if  an  earthquake  was  a  thing  you 
could  draw,  that's  the  sort  of  split-'  em  -alive  muddle 
I'd  like  to  hang  up  as  a  correct  portrait  of  love. 
Cupid — and  bows  and  arrows  !  Blunderbusses, 
Jack  !  one  hundred  pounders,  sir  !  bombshells  and 
cannon  balls,  by  thunder  !  that's  what  I'd  give  'em!" 

But  I'll  not  linger  over  this  dinner-table  nor  the 
conversation  that  took  place  at  it.     In  all  my  life 


248  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

I  never  was  in  such  high  spirits.  The  fact  that 
Florence  had  flatly  refused  Mr.  Morecombe  was 
only  one  item  in  a  catalogue  of  rapturous  me- 
mories ;  her  manner,  the  pleasure  she  had  shown 
on  seeing  me,  our  talk  behind  the  Bath  chair,  her 
admission  that  she  liked  me  a  little  bit,  her  "  I'll 
see  "  when  I  asked  her  if  we  were  to  meet  again, 
were  recollections  of  a  nature  calculated  to  make 
me  feel  very  fit  to  waltz  the  whole  way  from 
Clifton  to  my  lodgings.  When  I  bade  my  relatives 
good-night  my  uncle  held  me  by  the  hand  arid 
said,  "  Jack,  I  don't  want  to  discourage  you,  you 
know  that ;  but  don't  be  too  sanguine.  You  will 
find  Alphonso  Hawke  a  very  large  difficulty.  How- 
ever, be  patient,  be  honest,  be  sincere  up  to  the 
hilt,  and  above  all,  don't  elope.  Eunaway  mar- 
riages may  answer  very  well  for  a  time ;  but  let 
me  tell  you,  in  spite  of  the  old  playwrights,  that 
a  parent's  blessing  is  an  element  of  consecration 
that  no  marriage  should  be  without ;  and,  though 
to  be  sure,  old  Hawke' s  benediction  might  not 
seem  a  sort  of  thing  to  sanctify  circumstances 
very  much,  yet,  weak  as  it  may  be  in  that  way, 
you'll  be  better  with  it  than  without  it." 

I  thanked  him  for  his  advice  and  told  him  in 
rather  an  imposing  manner  that  I  hoped  it 
would  not  come  to  an  elopement,  though  if 
Florence  should  be  rendered  unhappy,  I  certainly 
should  not  allow  any  domestic  sentiment  to  stop 


I    RECEIVE   A  VISIT.  249 

me — if  she  wished — from  coming  between  her  and 
her  father  ;  and  then,  accepting  a  cigar  from  him, 
I  departed,  not  a  little  inflated  by  his  suspicion 
that  an  elopement  was  possible.  When  I  reached 
my  lodgings  and  sat  down  to  think  over  what  had 
taken  place  that  day,  I  was  more  than  satisfied 
with  the  judgment  that  had  determined  me  upon 
stopping  in  Bristol.  Numerous  delightful  visions 
rose  before  me  as  I  sat  looking  at  the  little  room 
through  the  smoke  of  my  uncle's  excellent  tobacco. 
I  pictured  Florence  driven  to  distraction  by  her 
papa's  severity  and  Air.  Morecombe's  importunities, 
and  calling  upon  me  to  rescue  her  from  her  state 
of  misery.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  figure  that 
very  elopement  against  which  my  uncle  had 
advised  me.  Yes,  I  went  through  the  whole 
agitating  business.  I  prowled  about  the  house,  I 
hid  letters  under  a  stone  beside  her  father's  gate, 
where  she  would  find  them  after  dusk  and  eagerly 
devour  them ;  I  eventually  won  her  consent  to  my 
bearing  her  away  from  her  luxurious  but  cruel 
parental  roof,  and  my  undaunted  imagination  then 
proceeded  to  figure  us  in  London  lodgings,  poor, 
but  in  the  highest  degree  respectable,  occasionally 
helped  by  my  large-hearted  uncle,  and  then,  after 
a  time,  visited  by  old  Hawke,  who  begged  our  for- 
giveness and  handed  his  daughter  a  cheque  that 
immediately  enabled  us  to  furnish  a  house  in  a 
fashionable  square.     What  young  lover,  perplexed 


250  JACK'S    COUKTSHIP. 

by  family  objections,  has  not  dreamt  in  some  such 
fashion  as  this  ?  We  are  all  knight-errants  in 
youth — our  chivalry  runs  high — we  disdain  dross 
and  think  only  of  soul ;  our  lances  are  couched, 
and  we  ride  at  full  gallop.  I  had  not  sat  in  the 
rather  uncomfortable  armchair  ten  minutes  before 
I  had  eloped,  was  married,  was  settled,  was  doing 
well,  was  returning  my  relation's  hospitality  by 
elegant  entertainments,  and  had  Mr.  Hawke  re- 
peatedly calling,  and  talking  of  me  in  high  terms 
behind  my  back.  And  when  I  went  to  bed  all  this 
happened  again  and  again  in  dreams. 

Yet,  oddly  enough,  in  spite  of  a  night  of  para- 
disaical visions,  the  first  thought  that  came  into 
my  head  next  morning  when  I  awoke  was  my 
uncle's  parting  sentence:  "Jack,  I  don't  want  to 
discourage  you,  you  know  that ;  but  don't  be  too 
sanguine."  I  had  risen  rather  later  than  usual, 
had  breakfasted,  had  written  a  letter  to  my 
London  landlady  desiring  her  to  forward  me 
certain  articles,  and  was  lounging  with  a  pipe  in 
my  mouth  over  a  local  paper.  It  was  a  little 
after  eleven  o'clock.  The  breakfast  things  were 
still  upon  the  table,  the  cloth  clean  indeed,  but 
the  general  appearance  not  particularly  handsome, 
thanks  to  the  remains  of  some  fried  bacon,  a 
couple  of  eggshells,  a  stain  under  the  coffee-pot 
where  I  had  capsized  a  spoonful  of  the  liquor. 

All  on  a  sudden  a  great  gorgeous  open  carriage, 


I  KECEIVE  A  VISIT.  251 

drawn  by  two  horses  with  plenty  of  silver  on 
their  harness,  and  a  couple  of  fellows  in  splendid 
livery  on  the  box,  drove  up  and  stopped  with  a 
mighty  rattle  at  the  door  of  my  lodgings.  One 
glance  was  enough  to  assure  me  that  it  was  the 
Hawkes'  carriage,  and  that  Mr.  Hawke  was  inside 
it  and  alone.  I  jumped  up  and  backed  to  the  end 
of  the  room,  whence  I  had  a  good  view  of  the  old 
man,  who  gazed  sternly  and  contemptuously  at 
the  house,  running  his  eyes  up  and  down  it.  I 
determined  not  to  see  him.  The  idea  of  his 
coming  fresh  from  the  gilt  and  glory  of  Clifton 
Lodge  to  this  bit  of  a  room  with  its  broken  egg- 
shells and  its  cold  relics  of  fried  ham  was  awful 
to  me.  What  story  would  he  relate  to  Florence  ? 
How  would  he  triumph  over  her  in  his  relation  of 
the  figure  the  young  gentleman  who  was  in  love 
with  her  cut  when  he  was  at  home  ! 

A  fearful  knock  thundered  through  the  house,  and 
the  neighbours  over  the  way  crowded  to  the  windows 
to  have  a  look.  I  went  to  the  door  of  the  room  to 
intercept  the  landlady.  As  is  usual  on  occasions 
when  you  are  exceedingly  impatient  and  don't  want 
people  to  be  kept  waiting,  a  considerable  interval 
elapsed  before  any  attention  was  paid  to  the  sum- 
mons. The  landlady  then  came  out  of  the  kitchen 
very  deliberately — the  kitchen  was  at  the  back  of 
the  house  downstairs  ;  had  the  woman  seen  the 
carriage  or  received  into  her  ears  the  full  thunder 


252  JACK'S   COUETSHIP. 

of  the  knock,  she  would  have  bundled  up  smartly, 
no  doubt — and  I  darted  out  upon  her. 

"  Mrs.  Chump,"  said  I,  "  it  is  somebody  for  me. 
Please  say  I  am  not  at  home." 

"  Not  at  home !  "  cried  she,  looking  at  me  with 
astonishment. 

"I  mean  that  I  don't  want  to  be  in — say  I'm 
out,"  said  I,  in  an  agony, 

"But  ye're  not  out,"  says  she.  "Would  you 
have  me  tell  a  lie  ?  Not  for  worlds,  sir,"  and  the 
creature  dropped  me  a  curtsey. 

At  that  moment  a  second  terrific  summons — it 
was  the  footman,  and  I  should  have  liked  to  knock 
his  head  off;  the  villain,  I  suppose,  thought  he 
could  give  himself  airs  upon  a  humble  door — ■ 
made  Mrs.  Chump  hop  like  a  wine-glass  on  a  table 
heavily  thumped.  I  saw  so  much  severity  of  con- 
science in  her  face  that  I  knew  entreaty  would  be 
useless,  and  unless  I  ran  her  into  the  kitchen  and 
threatened  her  with  violence  if  she  opened  the  door, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  allow  her  to  let  old 
Hawke  in.  So  I  backed  into  the  parlour,  growling 
to  her  to  make  haste  if  she  meant  to  answer  the 
summons  at  all,  and  flung  myself  into  a  chair, 
catching  hold  of  the  newspaper  and  assuming  as 
easy  a  posture  as  I  could  adopt. 

"Is  Mr.  Seymour  in?"  the  footman  asked,  after 
muttering  something  about  folks'  impudence  in 
keeping  people  waiting. 


I   RECEIVE   A   VISIT.  2o3 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Chump,  with  hideous 
alacrity  and  a  voice  full  of  awe,  having  had  no 
notion  of  the  gorgeous  apparition  that  stood  opposite 
her  house.  The  old  fellow  got  out  of  the  carriage, 
and  I  heard  his  hoots  creak.  "  Announce  Mr. 
Hawke,"  said  he ;  and  Mrs.  Chump,  shoving  into 
the  room,  said  "  Mr.  Ork,  sir.''  "  Clear  the  table," 
said  I.  "Pray  walk  in,  Mr.  Hawke,"  and  I  stood 
up  and  pointed  to  a  seat. 

He  looked  an  immense  man  in  that  little  room. 
"Can  I,"  said  he,  standing  against  the  wall  so  as 
to  be  clear  of  Mrs.  Chump,  who  was  whipping  the 
breakfast  things  off  the  table,  "  have  a  few  minutes 
with  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied.  "  Never  mind  the  cloth, 
Mrs.  Chump ; "  and  I  shut  the  door  upon  her  as 
she  backed  out  with  her  hands  full  of  crockery. 
Mr.  Hawke  sat  down  and  put  his  hat  and  gloves 
upon  the  table.  He  seemed  to  have  grown  half  as 
big  again  since  I  saw  him  last.  In  breadth  of  face, 
surface  of  waistcoat,  squareness  of  shoulders,  and 
length  and  dimensions  of  legs  and  arms,  there 
seemed  a  visible  expansion.  Now  he  was  close  to, 
I  could  remark  that  he  was  very  nervous,  and  I 
judged  that  the  scowls  he  had  directed  at  the  little 
house  were  merely  the  outward  expressions  of  a  mind 
labouring  after  courage.  I  was  probably  more  ner- 
vous than  he,  though  I  was  successful  in  putting 
on  a  manner  that  tolerably  well  cloaked  my  feelings. 


254  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

"I  have  called  upon  you,"  said  he,  sitting  bolt 
upright,  "  in  reference  to  nay  daughter,  Miss 
Hawke."  I  bowed  and  tried  to  look  surprised ;  but 
it  would  not  do.  "I  believe,  sir,"  he  continued, 
"that  you  are  no — aw — no  stranger  to  my  wishes 
respecting  that  lady  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  from  my  relatives  that  you  want 
her  to  marry  Mr.  Morecombe,  if  that's  what  you 
mean,  Mr.  Hawke,"  I  replied. 

"  Sir,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  heavy  nod,  "  that 
is  what  I  mean.  Your  relatives  are  perfectly  well 
acquainted  with  my  wishes,  and — aw — I  greatly 
regret  that  a  family  whom  I  considered  in  the  light 
of  friends  should  have — aw — should  have  thought 
proper  to — aw — to  combine  against  me,  to  act  in 
concert  with,  or  rather,  let  me  say,  to  court  my 
daughter  from  the  path  of  duty  and — aw — back 
her— yes,  I  will  say  and  back  her— in  defying  my 
wishes." 

"This,"  said  I,  "concerns  my  uncle.  He  is  so 
well  qualified  to  take  his  own  part  that  there  is  no 
reason  for  me  to  do  more  than  refer  you  to  him." 

"  I  consider  him  and  his  family  more  guilty  than 
you,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,'  warming  up  and  talking 
with  some  briskness.  "  They  knew  my  wishes ; 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Seymour  are — aw — are  parents  them- 
selves. They  had  no  right,  I  say,  they  had  no 
right  to  allow  you  and  my  daughter  to  meet,  to — 
to — in  short — aw — it  was  their  duty  as  parents  and 


I  BEGEIYE   A  VISIT.  255 

neighbours  to  discountenance  what  the}'  knew  would 
prove  objectionable  to  in<_. 

"All  this,  Mr.  Hawke,"  said  I,  "as  I  have 
already  said.,  refers  to  my  relations,  and  on  that 
subject  my  uncle  is  the  proper  person  for  you  to 
address  yourself  to.  You  have,  I  presume,"  said  I 
with  a  glance  round  the  room  as  much  as  to  tell 
him  not  to  judge  me  by  what  he  saw,  '*'  called  upon 
me  on  some  matter  relating  to  myself.  May  I 
inquire  what  it  is? " 

••  It  concerns  your  admiration  of  my  daughter," 
he  answered.  "  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that 
you  have  gone  so  far  as  to — aw — to  express  even 
affection  for  her,  and  the  purpose  of  this  visit  is  to 
beg  you  to  discontinue  your  attentions  to  her."  I 
looked  at  him  steadily,  for  my  wits  seemed  to  come 
to  me  when  he  said  this.  "  I  have  no  doubt,"  he 
continued,  M  that  your  regard  for  her  is  perfectly 
sincere,  and  that  you  are  actuated  by  the — aw — the 
most  gentleman-like  and  honourable  intentions. 
But  that  is  not  the  point.  Whatever  construction 
your  intentions  may  bear,  they — aw — they  must 
prove  equally  objectionable  to  me ;  and  I  am  here, 
Mr.  Seymour,  for  the  purpose  of  calling  upon  you 
as  a  gentleman  not  only  to  cease  to  have  any 
thoughts  about  Miss  Hawke,  but  to  prove  your 
principles  as  a  man  of  honour  by  removing  from 
Bristol." 

T  looked  at  him  with  astonishment.     "Remove 


256  JACK'S  COUBTSHIP. 

from  Bristol !  "  I  ejaculated.  "  Cease  to  have  any 
thoughts  about  Miss  Hawke  !  "  and,  as  I  hope  to  be 
forgiven,  I  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

His  face  turned  as  red  as  a  powder  flag.  "  If/* 
he  exclaimed  angrily,  "  I  have  no  power  to  oblige 
you  to  leave  Bristol,  you  may  rest  assured  that  I 
can  and  will  stop  your  unwarranted  attentions  to 
my  daughter.  I  tell  you  this,"  says  he,  breathing 
hard  and  laying  hold  of  his  beard  with  one  hand 
and  in  a  manner  menacing  me  with  the  other,  "  so 
that  if  you  have  hired  this  lodging  with  the  hope  of 
obtaining  the  end,  which  I  have  no  doubt  your 
uncle  has  put  into  your  head,  you  may  as  well  spare 
yourself  disappointment  by — aw — by  leaving  the 
town  without  delay." 

"I  can  assure  you,  Mr.  Hawke,"  said  I,  "that  I 
would  far  rather  you  should  talk  to  me  rudely  than 
politely,  because  by  so  doing  you  enable  me  to  tell 
you  more  than  I  should  think  of  saying  were  you 
kind  or  even  courteous.  A  couple  of  sentences  will 
convey  my  intentions.  First,  I  mean  to  stop  in 
Bristol  as  long  as  I  choose ;  and  second,  I  am  in 
love  with  your  daughter,  and  have  not  the  least 
idea  of  relinquishing  the  hope  of  one  day  winning 
her.  I  am  sorry,"  I  continued,  '"'that  your  unkind- 
ness  should  force  me  to  speak  so  frankly.  I'm  not 
going  to  tell  you  I  respect  your  wishes  about  your 
daughter.  You  have  no  right  to  force  her  hand. 
The  Commandment  says  she  must  honour  you ;  but 


I  KECEIVE  A  VISIT.  257 

you  ought  to  honour  hor  too,  sir.  Still,  I  am  sorry 
to  run  foul  of  your  notions,  though  if  you  suppose 
I  could  help  falling  in  love  with  your  daughter,  all 
that  I  can  say  is,  Mr.  Hawke,  you  pay  your  own 
child  a  very  poor  compliment.  And  since  I'm 
talking,"  said  I,  amazed  by  my  own  bluntness 
and  assurance,  and  yet  not  in  the  least  degree  able 
to  control  myself,  "  I  should  like  to  point  out  that 
I  am  no  fortune-hunter.  I  am  quite  capable  of 
supporting  a  wife.  Had  I  found  Miss  Hawke  living 
even  in  such  lodgings  as  these,  dressed  like  one  of 
your  housemaids,  and  having  to  sew  for  bread,  I 
should  love  her  not  less  than  I  do  now,  though  I 
could  not  love  her  more." 

This  put  the  old  fellow  quite  at  a  loss.  He  had 
been  red,  but  now  he  was  white.  I  suppose  he  saw 
that  I  was  not  to  be  managed  by  his  anger,  nor  to 
be  made  ashamed  of  myself,  and  he  would  not  like 
to  drop  his  sour  dignity  and  high  parental  wrath 
for  an  appealing  attitude.  He  seized  his  hat  and 
gloves  and  stood  up,  and  so  did  I. 

"  I  had  hoped,"  said  he,  "to  have  gained  your 
promise  as  a  gentleman  to  cease  annoying  me 
through  Miss  Hawke.  But,"  added  he  brutally,  "I 
see  what  you  are.  And  let  me  advise  you,"  con- 
tinued he,  shaking  his  gloves  at  me,  "  not  to  come 
near  my  house,  not  to  have  any  communication 
with  my  daughter,  to — aw — to  keep  your  distance, 
though  you  should  stop  here  for  the  rest  of  your 

VOL.  I.  S 


258  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

life.  I'll  have  you  watched,  sir — I'll  set  the  police 
at  you — I'll  protect  myself — I'll,  I'll — why,  con- 
found your  impudence  !  who  the  devil  are  you,  to 
have  designs  upon  my  daughter?"  he  cried,  casting 
aside  his  "  aws  "  and  breeding  and  whipping  out 
with  a  genuine  piece  of  squatterism. 

Nothing  but  my  temper  stopped  me  from  laugh- 
ing at  this  exquisitely  absurd  contrast.  It  was  not 
pleasant,  however,  to  be  sworn  at  and  scorned,  and 
I  was  in  the  act  of  delivering  a  hot  answer  when  I 
was  stopped  by  a  rapping  on  the  window.  I  looked 
and  saw  my  uncle  trying  to  peer  in  through  the 
muslin  curtain  and  tapping  with  the  head  of  his 
stick.  I  immediately  went  to  the  door  and  opened 
it,  and  he  came  in. 

"  Who  have  you  here  ?  "  he  asked,  kicking  his 
heels  on  the  door-mat.  "Has  Florence  driven 
over  to  marry  ye  ?" 

There  was  no  use  in  crying  "Hush! "  to  this;  the 
sitting-room  door  was  open,  and  what  was  worse, 
Mr.  Hawke  came  into  the  passage  as  the  question 
was  asked  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Hawke  ?  "  exclaimed 
my  uncle  coldly.  "  Jack,  by  your  leave  I'll  sit 
down.  Egad,  this  heat  is  very  trying  to  an  old 
man.  Mr.  Hawke,  don't  let  me  drive  you  away, 
sir.  Are  you  here  on  business  ?  if  so  I'll  sit  in 
your  carriage  till  you've  done — but  sit  I  must." 

Mr.  Hawke  bowed  stiffly,  and  was  waiting  for  us 


I  RECEIVE  A  VISIT.  259 

to  come  out  of  the  narrow  passage  in  order  to  leave 
the  house,  when  I  said,  "  I  hope  you'll  not  hurry, 
sir.  Uncle,  Mr.  Hawke  is  here  on  business  that 
concerns  us  both.  He  has  forced  me  to  speak  very 
plainly — I  am  very  sorry  he  should  have  given  me 
occasion  to  do  so  ;  but  now  that  you  have  unex- 
pectedly called,  and  there  are  no  ladies  of  the 
family  present,  we  cannot  do  better  than  talk  this 
matter  out  and  have  the  satisfaction,  at  all  events, 
of  knowing  one  another's  meaning." 

"  That  satisfaction  we  have  already  got,"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Hawke  angrily.  "You  have  been 
plain  enough  and  you  know  my  meaning,  sir." 

My  uncle  entered  the  parlour  and  sat  down. 
Hawke  went  to  the  table  and  stood  against  it,  and 
I  remained  in  the  doorway. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Mr.  Hawke  ?  What  has 
my  nephew  Jack  been  doing?"  said  my  uncle, 
putting  on  a  face  of  concern  but  evidently  not 
disliking  the  situation. 

"  Mr.  Seymour,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  very 
pale,  but  speaking  with  pluck,  "you  are  no 
stranger  to  my  wishes  respecting  my  own  child.  I 
find  that  your  nephew  has  been  paying  her  atten- 
tion, and  I  charge  him  with  obstructing  a  desire 
that  lies  close  to  my  heart.  I  have  called  for  the 
purpose  of  requesting  him  to  cease  having  any 
further  relations  with  Miss  Hawke,  and  to  remove 
himself  from  Bristol,  where  his  presence  is  objec- 


260  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

ticmable  to  me ;  and  I  think,  sir,  considering — aw 
— considering  that  I  owe  this  disagreeable  state  of 
things  to  your  introduction  of  your  nephew  to  us 
and  to  the  interest  your  family  have — aw — taken 
in  advancing  him  in  my  daughter's  good  graces, 
manifestly  against  my  desires,  I  have  a  right  to 
expect  you  to  support  me  in  the  demands  I  have 
made  upon  your  nephew's  honour  as  a  gentle- 
man." 

"You  are  fluent  upon  my  honour  as  a  gentle- 
man, Mr.  Hawke,"  said  I,  "but  you  do  not  treat 
me  as  a  gentleman." 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Hawke,"  said  my  uncle ;  "  I 
can't  control  human  nature.  Jack  is  my  brother 
Tom's  son:  he  is  a  gentleman,  and  I  introduced  him 
to  you  as  a  gentleman.  I  am  responsible  to  you 
for  his  good  manners.  Had  he  behaved  rudely  at 
your  house,  had  he  shown  himself  ill-bred,  I  should 
have  submitted  to  your  reproaches  like  a  lamb. 
But  I  have  no  influence  over  his  heart.  If  he  is 
in  love  with  Florence  it  is  her  fault,  not  mine — her 
fault  for  being  a  very  pretty  woman,  do  you  see  ? 
Sir,  you  are  an  older  man  than  I :  let  us  exert  our 
common  sense  in  this  matter." 

"It  is  really — aw — not  a  question  of  our  joint 
common  sense,  but  for  mine  alone,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Hawke  hotly.  "My  daughter  is  my  business;  I 
do  not  desire  that  your  nephew  shall — aw — shall 
have  any  further  relations  with  her,  and  since  he 


I  RECEIVE  A  VISIT.  261 

has  as  good  as  defied  me  and  insulted  me  by  the 
most  ill-placed — aw — the  most  ill-placed  mirth,  I 
have  given  him  notice,"  says  he,  turning  upon  me 
with  a  scowl  and  then  addressing  himself  to  my 
uncle,  "  that  I  shall  spare  no  trouble  to  protect  my 
daughter  against  his  disagreeable  advances." 

"You  are  not  very  polite,  Mr.  Hawke,"  said  my 
uncle,  eyeing  him  somewhat  grimly.  "  I  should 
have  hoped  that  your  respect  for  the  genteel  and 
the  exclusive  would  have  taught  you  some  reserve 
in  the  use  of  words.  As  to  Jack's  advances — 
they're  not  made  to  you,  and  consequently  you 
have  no  right  to  call  them  disagreeable." 

"My  respect  for  the  genteel  and  the  exclusive, 
as  you  are  pleased  to  call  it,"  answered  Mr.  Hawke, 
standing  erect  as  a  footguard  in  a  sentry-box,  "  is 
sufficiently  great  to  make  me  desire  that  your 
nephew  will  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  me 
or  mine." 

"  Xo  desire  of  yours  would  weigh  with  me,"  said 
I,  going  into  the  room  so  that  I  could  look  at  him. 
"  I  am  in  love  with  your  daughter,  not  with  }tou  ; 
and  if  I  marry  her  it  will  be  to  get  a  wife,  not  a 
father-in-law." 

"  You  are  a  very  impudent  young  man,"  he 
exclaimed,  staring  at  me  as  if  he  had  a  mind  to 
fall  upon  me. 

"But  why  d'ye  insult  him,  then,  Mr.  Hawke  ?  " 
cried  my  uncle.     "If   you  object  to  him  because 


262  JACKS  COURTSHIP. 

he  is  poor  or  because  he's  been  a  sailor,  or  because 
he  hasn't  a  title,  say  so;  but  don't  speak  to  him 
as  if  he  was   a  parvenu,  some   ragman's    son  of 

yesterday.  Hang  it,  man !  I  wouldn't  address 
even  young  Moreoombe  in  such  words  as  you  have 
applied  to  my  nephew." 

k'I  am  fully  prepared  to  he  insulted  by  you,  sir," 
cried  Mr.  Hawke  ;  "  and  if  I  linger  another  moment 
in  this — aw — this  den  it  will  be  only  to  tell  you 
that  I  consider  the  manner  in  which  you  have  en- 
couraged your  nephew  in  his  encroachments  upon 
my — aw — my  domestic  circle,  and  the  sympathy 
your  daughters  have  given  Florence  in  her  defiant 
behaviour  to  her  father,  unworthy  of  you,  sir,  as 
a  gentleman  and  a  neighbour."  And  so  saying  he 
wheeled  round  and  marched  out  of  the  room. 

My  uncle  half  rose  as  if  to  run  after  him  :  but  I 
put  my  hand  upon  his  arm  and  stopped  him.  "  For 
Heaven's  sake,  let  him  go  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  He 
believes  he  is  wronged — he  is  an  older  man  than 
you — and  consider  for  a  moment  how  utterly 
ridiculous  must  be  any  ideas  Mr.  Hawke  may  have 
about  what  constitutes  a  gentleman  !  "  As  I 
said  this  the  house-door  was  violently  slammed, 
and  old  Hawke,  with  his  nose  high  in  the  air  and 
quivering  with  indignation,  got  into  his  carriage 
and  drove  off.  My  uncle  for  a  few  minutes  was  in 
a  great  passion. 

"  What  did  he  say  ? — that  I  wasn't  a  gentleman  I 


I  RECEIVE  A  VISIT.  203 

how  can  I  punish  him  for  that  ?  "  he  cried.  "  In 
my  young  days  I'd  have  shot  him  for  such  a 
sentence.  Not  a  gentleman  !  Why  did  you  stop 
me  from  forcing  him  to  apologize  ?  He  never 
should  have  left  this  house  without  apologizing  to 
me.  Not  a  gentleman !  "  However,  he  cooled 
down  after  a  little,  and  when  I  reminded  him  that 
he  insulted  the  old  fellow  first  by  sneering  at 
Morecombe,  he  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"But  what  a  rude  old  chap  he  is!  "  cried  he. 
"What  had  he  said  before  I  arrived?"  I  told 
him.  "And  does  he  think  he  can  order  you  out 
of  Bristol?"  he  exclaimed.  "I  suppose  all  this 
comes  from  Emily  telling  him  of  your  walk  with 
Florence  yesterday,  which,  coming  on  top  of  the 
girl's  refusal  of  Morecombe,  would  drive  the  old 
man  mad.  It's  odd  enough  that  I  should  arrive 
when  he  was  here.  I  had  some  business  at  my 
banker's,  and  being  within  five  minutes  of  you  I 
thought  I'd  step  in  and  rest  myself.  I  recognized 
old  Hawke's  carriage,  and  honestly  supposed 
Florence  had  called,  for  could  I  dream  that  Hawke 
would  come  in  state  to  visit  you  merely  to  have  a 
row?" 

"  I'm  sorry  it's  happened,"  said  I,  lighting  my 
pipe  with  a  gloomy  face.  "  It  has  made  enemies 
of  the  two  families,  the  very  thing  1  left  your 
house  to  avert,  and  I  am  afraid  he'll  now  take  such 
steps  to  stop  all  chance  of  my  meeting  or  com- 


264  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

raunicating  with  his  daughter  as  will  play  old 
Harry  with  my  hopes." 

"  Never  you  mind  about  his  enmity  so  far  as  we 
are  concerned,"  replied  my  uncle  ;  "  and  as  to 
your  chances,  are  you  worse  off  than  you  were 
before  ?  He  may  hate  you  now  :  he  disliked  you 
then — what's  the  difference  ?  Let  me  tell  you,  my 
lad,  that  his  calling  here  is  a  thunderingly  whole- 
some sign  for  you,  since  it  means  that  he's  seen 
enough  in  his  daughter  to  calculate  that  you'll 
make  his  chances  of  blood  small  enough  if  he 
doesn't  get  you  to  sheer  off  somehow." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "I  appreciate  all  that.  But 
don't  you  see  that  he  may  go  and  tell  Florence 
that  I've  grossly  insulted  him,  and  work  upon  her 
feelings  as  a  child." 

"  Tut,  tut !  Work  upon  her  feelings  as  a  sweet- 
heart, you  mean.  What's  the  name  of  the  French 
play  in  which  either  a  lover  or  a  father  must  forfeit 
his  life  at  the  choice  of  a  girl  who  decides  by 
sending  her  papa  to  the  hangman  and  marrying 
her  young  man  ?  The  chap  who  wrote  that  knew 
human  nature.  Make  your  mind  easy.  Love 
betwixt  youngsters  always  flourishes  best  where 
there  are  family  riots,  just  as  you  get  the  finest 
fruits  in  the  land  where  earthquakes  are  common. 
Did  you  ever  read  '  Eomeo  and  Juliet '  ?  I  shan't 
speak  to  your  aunt  or  cousins  about  this.  No  need 
for  them  to  hear  of  this  shindy.     But  I  say,  why 


I  RECEIVE   A  VISIT.  2G5 

d'ye  want  to  go  on  living  here  now  I  You  left 
because  you  thought  your  presence  at  my  house 
would  stop  intercourse  between  the  Hawkes  and  us. 
You  may  take  it,"  said  he  with  a  laugh,  "  that  that 
intercourse  is  now  wholly  suspended,  though  not 
between  Florence  and  the  girls,  I  hope.  Come 
home  with  me,  man,  and  make  yourself  happy." 

I  thanked  him  heartily,  but  declined,  saying  that 
as  things  went  there  was  no  telling  how  long  I 
might  require  to  remain  in  Bristol;  and  that  I 
was  sure,  let  him  do  what  he  might  to  make  me 
happy  at  his  house,  to  feel  myself  an  intruder  upon 
his  hospitality  after  awhile.  I  also  pointed  out 
that  my  going  to  live  close  to  Clifton  Lodge  might 
cause  Mr.  Hawke  to  carry  his  daughter  off  to  some 
distant  place  which  I  might  never  get  to  hear  of. 

"  I  can't  imagine  that,"  said  he,  "if  the  distant 
place  has  a  post  office  and  Florence  means  business. 
But  I  don't  want  to  influence  you.  There's  no 
doubt  you're  in  earnest,  and  as  you  seem  pretty 
capable  of  playing  your  own  cards,  I  don't  want  to 
take  upon  myself  the  responsibility  of  directing 
the  game  in  any  way.  All  luck  attend  ye  !  He 
called  me  no  gentleman,  did  he  ?  and  talked  about 
you  as  if  you  were  a  bargee  ?  All  luck  attend  ye, 
I  say  !  •• 


266  JACK'S  COUKTSHIP. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LOGGINGS. 

I  told  you  when  I  set  out  that  this  yarn  would  be 
more  of  a  log-book  than  a  regular  tale,  and  though 
I  have  kept  my  facts  pretty  close  down  to  this 
point,  I  have  now  reached  a  part  where  the  form  of 
narrative  I  have  chosen  will  very  well  serve  my 
turn  for  a  spell.  When  nothing  particular  happens, 
you  see,  there  is  no  good  relating  it.  Besides,  what 
should  all  these  dialogues,  quarrels,  descriptions 
which  I  have  set  down  signify  but  steps  in  the 
gangway  ladder  over  the  side  to  enable  you  to  step 
aboard  the  ship  we  are  going  to  sail  away  in  before 
long  ?  If  I  had  asked  you  to  embark  at  Gravesend 
at  the  opening  of  the  tale,  I  should  have  had  to 
keep  the  anchor  down  and  all  hands  waiting  whilst 
I  told  you  what  brought  me  aboard,  and  gave  you 
the  history  of  some  of  the  people  walking  on  the 
poop  and  explained  who  I  was.  No,  I've  done  the 
right  thing,  I  reckon,  in  going  back  and  bringing 
you  along  with  me  to  the  sea  (which  should  be 


LOGGINGS.  267 

heaving  in  sight  very  soon),  and  in  yarning  to  you 
as  we  journey  ahout  the  causes  which  drove  me  on 
to  blue  water  once  more.  So  now  then  for  an 
extract  or  two  from  my  log-book  of  that  date. 

The  quarrel  with  old  Hawke  capsized  my  spirits 
badly.  It  was  all  very  fine  for  my  uncle  to  pooh- 
pooh,  and  say  it  made  no  difference.  Not  to  him, 
I  dare  say,  but  to  me  it  was  a  most  distressing  cir- 
cumstance. The  old  fellow  of  course  had  driven 
away  execrating  me.  I  had  defied  him,  in  a 
manner  mocked  at  him.  That  was  not  all.  He 
had  found  me  in  mean  lodgings,  the  room  full  of 
tobacco  smoke,  the  table  ornamented  with  broken 
eggshells  and  such  things,  and  of  course  the  notion 
of  my  poverty  begotten  in  him  by  what  he  saw, 
would  go  further  than  the  worst  insults  I  could 
heave  at  his  head  to  force  him  into  extreme 
measures  to  end  my  pursuit  of  his  daughter.  I 
suppose  he  had  obliged  Florence  to  divulge  my 
address,  which  she  had  obtained  from  Sophie. 
Emily,  of  course,  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  all ;  and 
as  my  uncle  had  said,  my  walk  with  Florence 
combined  with  her  refusal  of  Morecombe  was  more 
than  Alphonso  could  bear.  How  did  I  know  that 
his  daughter  had  not  given  him  reason  to  believe 
that  she  was  in  love  with  me  ?  Between  ourselves, 
this  was  my  conviction,  and  it  was  like  luff-tackles 
and  preventer  backstays  to  me  during  this  rolling 
and  pitching  and  heaving  and  wallopping  time. 


268  JACK'S   COUKTSHIP. 

Yet  bitterly  did  I  regret  that  the  old  fellow  had 
called  and  found  me  in.  He  had  manifestly  come 
in  hot  haste  and  in  a  passion  ;  his  manner  of  talk- 
ing proved  that  there  was  no  policy,  no  fore- 
thought ;  he  had  commanded  me  to  leave  Bristol, 
and  threatened  me,  by  heavens  !  with  the  police  if 
I  had  anything  more  to  do  with  his  daughter. 
Nothing  but  unreasoning  temper  could  account 
for  such  a  nonsensical  visit  as  he  had  paid  me ; 
and  now  he  would  go  home  smarting  from  the  shot 
poured  into  him  by  the  small-arms  man,  my  uncle, 
and  loathing  me  for  the  meanness  of  my  habitation 
and  for  my  youthful  scorn  and  defiance  of  him. 

Says  you,  "  And  pray  what  had  you  to  fear  from 
his  loathing  and  all  that,  seeing  that  he  was 
bitterly  opposed  to  you  before  ever  he  had  set 
foot  in  your  lodgings  ?  "  Ay,  but  can't  you  see, 
mates,  that  this  quarrel  would  strengthen  his  case 
with  his  daughter  ;  it  would  enable  him  to  repre- 
sent himself  to  her  as  an  outraged  man,  to  depict 
me  in  the  basest  and  most  odious  colours  to  her, 
and  to  appeal  to  her  feelings  as  a  child  ?  This  I 
say  was  my  fear,  and  so  acute  was  it  that  when 
my  uncle  went  away  I  determined  to  write  Florence 
a  full  account  of  all  that  had  passed,  implore  her 
not  to  allow  her  father  to  prejudice  her  against 
me,  and  then,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  to  get  the 
letter  put  into  her  hands,  though  the  job  should 
cost  me  fifty  pounds. 


LOGGINGS.  269 

The  breakfast  cloth  was  upon  the  table,  and  I 
rang  for  Mrs.  Chump  to  remove  it.  "Pray, 
ma'am,"  says  I,  with  my  temper  bubbling  like  pea- 
soup  in  a  ship's  coppers,  "  why  did  you  subject 
me  to  the  disturbance — which  of  course  you  over- 
heard— by  refusing  to  tell  the  gentleman  I  was 
out  ?  n 

"Begging  your  parding,  Mr.  Seymour,  sir,  you 
wasn't^out,"  she  replied,  stripping  the  table  in  an 
agitated  and  distracted  manner.  "I  couldn't  go 
to  tell  a  lie  against  my  own  salvagion  to  oblige 
no  one." 

"But "don't  you  know,"  cried  I,  "that  a  state- 
ment of  that  kind  is  a  mere  form  and  not  a  lie, 
well  understood  by  people,  and  meant  to  save  the 
rudeness  of  the  truth  ?  " 

"  My  salvagion  is  first,"  answered  Mrs.  Chump, 
"and  my  consideration  is  that,  when  I  speaks  no 
matter  on  what." 

"  If  that's  your  notion,"  said  I,  "  you'll  find  it  a 
hard  job  to  be  saved,  ma'am ;  for  should  you  live 
to  become  an  old  woman,  and  I  hope  you  may,  I'm 
sure,  you'll  go  to  your  grave  so  loaded  with  sea- 
blessings  that  there  is  every  prospect  of  your 
foundering  under  them ;  and  our  hopes  are  that 
way,"  said  I,  pointing  to  the  ceiling,  "  and  not 
yonder,"  pointing  to  the  floor.  I  then  waved  her 
out  of  the  room  with  a  proper  sweep  of  the  hand 
towards  the  door,  and  after  pacing  about  for  twenty 


270  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

minutes  or  so,  rehearsing  what  I  should  say,  I  sat 
down  to  write  a  letter  to  Florence  Hawke. 

I  recall  picturing  her  whilst  I  hung  over  the 
note-paper,  pen  in  hand,  as  being  in  a  most  dis- 
consolate state  of  mind,  her  eyes  red  with  tears, 
her  looks  most  forlorn,  her  father  treating  her 
tyrannously,  passionately  using  all  sorts  of 
threats,  Emily  cold  and  contemptuous  and  speak- 
ing of  me  only  to  say  something  vicious.  All  this 
of  course  was  purely  imaginary;  I  mean  that  I 
could  not  know  that  she  was  fretting  or  that  her 
papa  was  behaving  brutally;  but  every  young 
fellow  when  he  writes  to  his  sweetheart  has  her 
before  his  mind's  eye,  and  addresses  her  as  if  she 
were  opposite  him ;  and  that  was  what  I  did, 
figuring  Florence  in  the  melancholy  Mariana, 
moated-grange-like  posture  I  have  described.  It 
was  this  that  inspired  my  pen  and  caused  me  to 
decant  myself.  I  have  no  clear  recollection  of 
what  I  wrote,  but  believe  I  told  her  about  her 
father's  visit  and  implored  her  not  to  allow  any 
version  he  should  give  her  of  it  to  prejudice  her 
against  me,  and  asked  her  never  to  forget  that  I 
loved  her  to  distraction,  and  would  die  for  her  if 
by  cutting  my  throat  or  hanging  myself  I  could 
make  her  happy.  All  this  I  may  have  written, 
with  a  deal  of  other  impassioned  stuff,  winding  up 
with  a  hint  that  if  she  was  miserable  she  had  no- 
thing to  do  but  to  hoist  a  distress  signal.     It  was 


LOGGINGS.  271 

an  impudent  stroke.  It  really  meant,  "  If  your 
father's  treatment  makes  you  wretched  here,  I  am 
ready  to  run  away  with  you  at  a  moment's  notice." 
I  wanted  her  to  understand  that,  to  feel  that  I  was 
a  refuge,  and  so  I  cocked  it  in  ;  but  I  say  it  was  a 
very  audacious,  impudent  thing  for  me  to  imply. 

Well,  this  letter  being  written,  the  next  job  was 
to  get  it  delivered  to  her.  How  was  I  to  do  that  ? 
I  roamed  about  the  little  room  like  a  prisoner  in  his 
cell,  turning  over  all  sorts  of  notions.  The  queerest 
ideas  came  into  my  head.  What  did  I  think  of 
taking  a  policeman  into  my  confidence,  describing 
the  lady  and  offering  him  a  sovereign  to  watch  for 
old  Hawke  to  leave  the  house,  then  knock,  ask  to 
see  Miss  Hawke,  give  her  the  letter  and  tell  her  to 
say  he  had  called  to  know  if  any  boys  had  been 
getting  over  Mr.  Hawke's  walls?  What  did  I 
think  of  bribing  the  family  butcher's  man  to 
smuggle  the  letter  into  Florence's  hand  under  the 
pretence  that  it  was  a  list  of  revised  prices  for 
prime  joints,  and  that  his  master  had  asked  him 
to  see  Miss  Hawke  and  nobody  else  ?  What  did  I 
think  of  buying  a  cap  or  a  hat  and  pinning  the 
letter  inside  it  as  if  it  were  the  [bill,  and  despatch- 
ing it  in  a  bag  or  box  to  Clifton  Lodge  ?  These 
are  samples  of  the  schemes  which  were  hove  up 
out  of  me  by  the  throes  of  my  imagination.  But 
none  of  them  satisfied  me,  and  I  was  thrown  back 
upon    Sophie.      I  knew  her  family  would  object, 


272  JACK'S  COUETSHIP. 

that  I  should  be  acting  dishonestly  in  asking  her 
to  convey  the  letter,  and  that  she  would  be  acting 
undutifully  in  accepting  the  errand.  But  you  see, 
lads,  it  was  bound  to  go  somehow  or  other,  and 
there  was  no  one  to  manage  its  transmission  with 
greater  skill  and  secrecy  than  Sophie.  So  I  went 
to  work  and  wrote  to  her,  and  I  better  remember 
this  letter  than  the  other.  I  told  her  I  was 
rendered  desperate  by  the  necessity  of  communi- 
cating with  Florence,  that  I  had  no  friend  in  the 
world  but  dearest  Sophie,  that  I  blushed  to  ask 
her  to  do  anything  in  opposition  to  her  parents' 
wishes,  and  that  I  called  Heaven  to  witness  if  she 
would  oblige  me  by  handing  the  inclosed  letter  to 
Miss  Hawke,  I  would  never  again  ask  her  to  disobey 
her  mamma.  This  done,  I  rang  the  bell  and  asked 
Mrs.  Chump  if  there  was  an  intelligent  man  or 
boy  knocking  about  anywhere,  who  for  a  couple  of 
shillings  would  immediately  deliver  the  letters 
(which  were  under  one  cover)  at  my  uncle's  house. 
The  words  which  had  passed  between  us  made  her 
anxious  to  oblige ;  besides,  I  paid  her  fifteen 
shillings  a  week,  and  was  not  to  be  sneered  at. 
Yes,  Mrs.  Galloway's  boy  would  be  glad  to  run  if  he 
was  at  home  ;  she'd  go  and  seek  him.  He  was  at 
home,  and  came  back  with  Mrs.  Chump  ;  I  gave 
him  the  address  and  he  instantly  sped  away,  loudly 
whistling ;  and  I  sat  down  trembling  after  my 
great  intellectual  exertions. 


LOGGINGS.  273 

I  passed  the  rest  of  the  day  in  a  very  moping, 
skulking  fashion.  I  ordered  Mrs.  Chump  to  cook 
me  a  chop  by  way  of  dinner,  and  found  even  the 
lean  thing  she  dished  up  more  than  my  love -sick 
appetite  could  consume.  I  wandered  about  the 
Corporation  quays,  looked  into  the  shop  windows, 
and  so  forth,  but  was  never  long  away  from  my 
lodgings.  What  tortures  of  mind  I  underwent  on 
account  of  that  letter  !  Would  Sophie  send  it  ? 
"What  would  Florence  think  if  she  received  it  ? 
Would  she  answer  it  ?  Would  she  show  it  to  her 
papa  ?  Eveiy  youth  must  endure  experiences  of 
this  kind,  I  suppose,  when  he  is  in  love  ;  but  I 
declare  that  I  would  rather  have  half-a-foot  of 
my  stature  knocked  off,  or  spend  ten  years  of  my 
life  in  an  Atlantic  cattle-ship,  than  go  again 
through  the  sufferings  of  that  .time. 

At  half-past  eight  that  evening  I  was  in  my 
sitting-room  holding  a  novel  in  my  hand,  upside 
down  very  likely,  when  a  single  knock  was  struck 
upon  the  house  door,  and  Mrs.  Chump  looked  in 
and  said,  "  Mr.  Seymour's  servant,  sir.  for  you." 
I  went  out  and  saw  Cobb,  who  flourished  his 
thumb  upon  his  forehead  and  said,  "  Miss  Sophie's 
love,  sir,  and  she  sends  you  this."'  It  was  a 
letter ;  I  carried  it  to  the  candles,  and  found  two 
inclosures,  one  from  Sophie  and  the  other  (sealed 
in  a  very  little  envelope)  from  Florence.  When  I 
saw  this    tetter's    handwriting,   the   bold  1  "Jack 

VOL.  I.  T 


274  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

Seymour,  Esq.,"  with  F.  H.  up  in  the  corner  and 
the  familiar  goose  for  a  seal,  my  agitation  was  so 
great  that  the  letters  quivered  in  my  hand  like  a 
flat  candlestick  in  the  grasp  of  a  nervous  man 
awakened  by  unusual  sounds  in  the  dead  of 
night.  I  read  it  through,  and  then  I  read 
Sophie's,  and  then  I  turned  to  the  other,  and 
might  have  gone  on  reading  them  over  and  over 
again  alternately  for  an  hour  or  two  had  I  not 
been  interrupted  by  a  modest  cough  in  the  passage. 
I  peered  and  found  Cobb  erect  on  the  door-mat. 

"Why,  Cobb,"  said  I,  "  I  quite  forgot  that  you 
were  waiting." 

"  Is  there  any  answer,  sir?"  he  inquired. 

"  No,"  said  I,  and  I  put  two  half-crowns  into 
his  hand.  He  was  humbly  thankful,  and  then 
went  away.     Sophie's  letter  ran  thus  : — 

"  My  dear  Jack, 

"I  was  actually  talking  to  Florence 
at  our  gate  when  the  boy  arrived  with  your  note. 
She  had  been  visiting  some  poor  person  and  I 
had  been  to  the  library  for  a  novel,  and  we  met 
opposite  our  house.  I  asked  the  boy  what  he 
wanted,  and  he  said  he  had  brought  a  letter  from 
a  gentleman.  I  looked  at  it  and  saw  it  was  ad- 
dressed to  me,  which  made  me  rather  nervous, 
for,  upon  my  honour,  Jack,  I  did  not  know  your 
handwriting.     Well,  inside  I  found  your  letter  to 


LOGGINGS.  275 

Florence,  and  I  said,  '  Now  this  is  too  bad !  here 
is  my  cousin  wanting  me  to  be  his  postman 
against  mamma's  wishes.  However,  Florence,' 
said  I,  '  as  you  are  here,  there  can  be  no  harm  in 
handing  you  this,'  and  I  gave  her  the  letter.  She 
read  hers  whilst  I  read  mine.  I  asked  her  what 
you  had  written.  She  put  the  letter  in  her  pocket 
and  answered,  '  Oh,  papa  has  called  upon  him, 
and  I  am  afraid  there  has  been  a  quarrel.  I  shall 
hear  all  about  it  when  I  get  home.'  But  there 
was  more  in  your  letter  than  that,  I  am  sure,  for 
there  was  the  prettiest  colour  in  her  cheeks,  and 
she  could  not  help  smiling — not  disdain  fully — oh, 
dear  no,  sir !  quite  the  contrary,  I  assure  you. 
Then  she  asked  me  what  my  letter  contained.  I 
told  her  to  read  it,  as  I  had  no  secrets  ;  and  then 
I  said,  '  Shall  you  answer  yours  ? '  '  I  don't  know,' 
said  she  ;  '  he  ought  not  to  write  to  me.'  '  Don't 
leave  the  poor  fellow  in  suspense,  Florence,'  said  I. 
*  See  how  he  has  written  to  me ;  he  is  clearly 
dying  of  love.  I  don't  know  what  he  has  said 
to  you,  and  I  don't  ask;  but  if  it  deserves  an 
answer  you  ought  to  write,  dear.'  '  I  couldn't  send 
him  a  letter  by  post,'  said  she.  *  If  I  write  a  short 
note  will  you  forward  it  to  him  ? '  After  begging 
her  to  write,  I  felt  it  would  be  mean  to  refuse  her ; 
so  I  said  '  Yes,'  intending  to  tell  mamma  when 
the  letter  arrived  and  ask  leave  to  send  it  you. 
Well,  it  came  half  an  hour  ago,  and  mamma  said, 


276  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

'  You  cannot  help  it,  for  Florence  was  with  you 
when  Mr.  Jack's  letter  was  brought,  but  it  must 
not  happen  again.'  So  here  you  have  your  sweet- 
heart's letter,  and  since  she  appears  willing  to 
correspond,  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  get 
me  to  ask  her  how  you  may  write  to  her  in 
future  without  trying  to  make  me  break  the  fifth 
commandment. 

"Yours  affectionately, 

"  Sophie. 

"  P.S. — When  are  you  coming  to  see  us  and  tell 
me  all  about  your  quarrel  with  Mr.  Hawke  ? 
"What  did  he  say — was  he  rude  ?  " 

Florence's  letter  was  shorter  and  sweeter. 

"Dear  Mr.  Seymour, 

"  Sophie  has  given  me  your  letter.  I 
am  grieved  that  papa  should  have  called  upon 
you  ;  so  many  things  are  done  in  this  world  which 
are  quite  unnecessary.  You  need  not  fear  that 
I  shall  be  prejudiced  by  anything  that  can  be 
said.  I  hope  I  am  able  to  form  my  own  opinions 
on  people  and  judge  for  myself.  But  I  must  ask 
you  not  to  write  to  me  again.  I  have  already 
incurred  my  father's  serious  displeasure,  and  am 
anxious  to  do  nothing  to  offend  him.  Hardly 
anything  has  pained  me  more  in  all  this  trouble 
than  being  separated  from  your  cousins,  whose 


LOGGINGS.  277 

society  I  loved.  However,  I  shall  never  allow 
anything  to  estrange  them  and  me.  Whenever  I 
am  alone  and  pass  your  uncle's  house  and  see 
Sophie  or  Amelia  I  stop  and  speak,  and  perhaps 
on  one  of  these  occasions  we  may  chance  to  meet. 
"  Yours  truly, 

"Florence  Hawke." 

How  this  letter  may  strike  you  I  cannot  guess  ; 
me  it  sent  slap  into  heaven.  No  wonder  I  gave 
Cobb  two  half-crowns ;  fifty  times  that  money 
would  I  have  cheerfully  paid  to  the  bearer  of  that 
ecstatic  document.  Sly  did  Sophie  call  her  ?  Oh, 
shipmate,  is  the  beautiful  plant  sly  for  blossoming  ? 
I  admit  that  there  was  a  trifling  contradiction 
between  the  passage  in  which  she  said  she  was 
anxious  to  do  nothing  to  offend  her  father  and  the 
sentence  in  which  she  showed  me  how  I  might 
sometimes  meet  her.  But  consider  the  influences 
which  were  acting  upon  her.  If  you  start  the 
port  wheel  of  a  paddle-boat  hard  ahead  and  reverse 
the  starboard  wheel  hard  astern,  there's  no  helm 
that  I  know  of  which  will  make  the  vessel  hold  a 
steady  course.  But,  Lord  love  you  !  I  am  not 
spinning  this  yarn  as  an  apology  for  the  darling 
of  my  heart.  Love  is  a  current  that  has  caused 
many  a  stronger  nature  than  my  lassie's  to  drag 
and  cut  and  run.  And  see  here,  boys ;  if  a  parent 
don't  want  his  child's  anchor  to  "  come  home  " — 


278  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

and  you  know  what  that  means — let  him  take 
care  to  furnish  her  with  good  holding-ground  in 
his  own  character  and  conduct.  And  so  Amen 
to  that  as  a  piece  of  briny  advice,  dedicated  to 
the  memory  of  Alphonso  Hawke,  and  be  hanged 
to  him  ! 


And  now  for  a  second  logging,  and  much  will  it 
surprise  you,  I  don't  doubt.  It  is  something  as 
unexpected  in  its  day  as  the  entry  of  the  Yankee 
mate,  who,  being  drunk,  fell  overboard,  and  when  he 
was  fished  up  and  put  into  dry  clothes,  staggered 
to  his  journal  and  wrote,  "  This  day  the  ship  went 
down,  and  all  hands  was  drowned  but  me." 

The  entry  is  this  :  "  I  did  not  see  Florence  Hawke 
again  on  dry  land." 

Through  no  fault  of  mine,  you  may  heartily 
believe.  Day  after  day  for  a  fortnight  together  I 
would  walk  to  my  uncle's  house,  and  when  there 
hang  about  the  front  grounds  in  the  hope  that 
Florence  would  pass.  I  was  honest  enough  to 
explain  to  my  uncle  why  I  haunted  his  premises. 
"  Come  I  must,"  said  I,  "  unless  you  order  me  out ; 
and,  even  then,  the  Queen's  highway  being  as  much 
mine  as  yours,  I  shall  buy  a  camp  stool  and  sit  at 
your  gate,  for  I  want  to  see  Florence  Hawke,  and 
she  told  me  I  was  likely  to  see  her  here,  and  I 
don't  know  what  has  become  of  her.  She  has  not 
written  to   Sophie  ;  my  cousins  say  they  are  for- 


LOGGINGS.  279 

bidden  to  write  to  her,  and  amongst  you  all  there 
is  no  means  of  getting  any  satisfaction." 

"Jack,"  replied  my  uncle,  "you  may  sit  outside 
or  inside  my  gate  and  welcome ;  you  may  perch 
yourself  on  one  of  the  spikes  atop  of  it,  if  you 
please ;  and  you  are  still  more  welcome  to  make 
my  house  your  home  and  to  keep  watch  for  your 
beautj7  from  your  old  bedroom  window,  where,  if 
you'll  but  say  the  word,  I'll  have  a  telescope 
mounted  for  you  strong  enough  to  show  the  dairy- 
maids making  green  cheese  in  the  moon.  But 
though  I  don't  want  to  discourage  you,  as  you  know, 
there  seems  something  so  fantastic  in  the  game 
you're  playing,  that  upon  my  word,  if  I  were  you, 
I'd  chuck  up  the  sponge  and  retire  before  all  this 
hoping  and  moping  and  mooning  has  made  your 
heart  too  battered  a  thing  to  offer  to  the  next 
peerless  creature  ye  may  happen  to  light  on. 
What's  the  good  of  going  on  tacking  and  ratching 
when  wind  and  tide  are  against  you,  and  when 
every  board  you  make  finds  you  further  to  leeward  ? 
Better  bring  up,  man,  coil  down,  and  turn  in." 

To  all  which  of  course  I  listened  with  irritable 
disdain,  thanking  him  for  his  advice,  and  assuring 
him  that  I  would  rather  miserably  perish  by  the 
hands  of  the  hangman  than  abandon  the  only 
hopes  which  now  kept  me  alive. 

However,  before  the  fortnight  was  quite  expired, 
Sophie,  who  was  my  good  angel,  managed  to  get 


280  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

some  news  for  me.  She  had  met  a  Miss  Lloyd, 
who  was  a  friend  of  the  Hawkes,  at  the  house  of 
a  Colonel  Coldsteel  (the  people  of  Bristol  and 
Clifton  will  of  course  understand  that  all  the  names 
in  this  book  are  false),  and  she  learnt  from  this 
young  lady  that  Florence  .had  been  confined  to  the 
house  by  a  violent  cold  that  had  threatened  her 
with  an  attack  of  pleurisy ;  also  that  Mr.  More- 
combe  had  left  Clifton  Lodge,  his  ankle  being 
sound  again ;  and  further,  that  Miss  Damaris 
Hawke  had  arrived  from  Australia  on  the  preceding 
evening.  When  Sophie  told  me  this  I  immediately 
exclaimed,  "Is  it  a  severe  cold,  do  you  think,  or 
is  it  her  papa's  cruelty  ?  How  are  we  to  know 
that  he  is  not  slowly  breaking  her  heart  by  his 
severity  ?  " 

"Well,"  replied  Sophie,  "  some  suspicion  of  that 
kind  came  into  my  head,  and  I  asked  Miss  Lloyd 
several  questions.  She  said  that  she  had  not  seen 
Florence  for  a  week,  and  that  when  they  met  she 
could  not  help  thinking  there  was  something  on 
her  mind,  for  her  spirits  did  not  seem  good.  But 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  is  confined  to  her 
house  by  a  cold,  for  Mr.  Hawke' s  doctor  attends 
the  Lloyds,  and  Miss  Lloyd  heard  about  Florence 
from  him." 

"  But  why  don't  you  write ;  why  don't  you  call ; 
why  don't  you  do  something,  Sophie  ?  "  I  cried. 
"What  is  Mr.  Hawke  to  you?    Florence  is  your 


LOGGINGS.  281 

friend;  if  you  can  to  Ik  to  her  out  of  doors,  what 
should  prevent  you  from  sending  her  a  note  or  a 
servant  to  know  how  she  is  ?  " 

"I  would  do  so  gladly,"  she  answered,  speaking 
with  unaffected  concern  ;  "  but  bit  by  bit  the  story 
of  Mr.  Hawke's  quarrel  with  papa  in  your  lodgings 
has  leaked  out,  and  mamma  will  not  hear  of  our 
having  anything  further  to  say  to  the  Hawkes, 
unless  we  meet  Florence  accidentally,  when  of 
course  we  niay  speak,  she  says.  I  am  truly  sorry 
for  her  sake  and  for  yours,  Jack ;  but  we  must 
study  our  dignity."' 

I  had  nothing  to  say.  My  aunt's  views  were 
quite  proper  ;  but  it  was  a  bitter  hard  time  for  me, 
mates.  I  had  bargained  on  meeting  Florence 
again  and  again,  and  the  disappointment  and  the 
not  knowing  what  to  do  and  what  was  to  happen 
made  it,  I  say,  an  awful  time  for  me.  Would  she 
not  think  that  if  I  were  as  devoted  as  I  had  sworn 
I  was,  that  I  would  move  heaven  and  earth  to  learn 
how  she  was,  and  to  let  her  know  that  I  was  at 
hand,  loving  her  to  distraction,  and  willing  to  cut 
off  my  head  to  please  her  ?  But  there  was  no 
mode  of  communicating  with  her,  no  means  of 
learning  how  she  did  except  from  the  chance  gossip 
of  her  friends.  Memory,  however,  is  a  nourish- 
ment on  which  the  little  god  Cupid  will  sometimes 
contrive  to  keep  himself  fat,  if  not  comfortable ; 
and,  for  my  part,  I  had  a  fair  stock  of  that  diet 


282  JACK'S   COUETSHIP. 

to  live  on.  I  almost  forgot  how  long  I  had  then 
been  in  Bristol,  but  certainly  not  very  many  weeks 
had  passed  since  I  had  met  Florence  for  the  first 
time ;  and  during  those  few  weeks  there  had  been 
enough  passages  between  her  and  me  to  enable 
me  to  take  many  a  good  plunge  into  memory  and 
emerge  always  ardent  and  always  resolved  from 
the  delightful  bath. 

I  well  remember  that  when  I  heard  that 
Florence's  Aunt  Damaris  had  arrived,  and  when 
I  had  considered  a  little  over  that  piece  of  news, 
I  felt  somewhat  uneasy,  conjecturing,  of  course, 
that  Hawke's  sister  would  side  with  him  in  his 
wishes  about  Florence,  and  that  my  darling  might 
have  to  contend  with  another  oppressive  influence 
in  this  Australian  spinster.  But  on  the  whole 
I  do  not  know  that  thoughts  of  Aunt  Damaris 
troubled  me  much.  Of  Florence's  relations  I 
can  only  recollect  thinking  of  one  with  constant 
anxiety,  and  that  was  old  Hawke.  He  had  not, 
it  is  true,  the  power  of  preventing  his  daughter 
from  running  away  with  me  if  she  had  a  mind  to 
marry  me  in  that  fashion ;  but  whilst  she  remained 
too  loyal  to  her  home  to  forsake  it  without  her 
father's  consent,  she  and  I  were  at  the  old  chap's 
mercy,  for  he  had  really  nothing  to  do  to  effectually 
separate  us  but  to  carry  her  abroad  and  go  on 
journeying  about  with  her  until  he  should  reckon 
he  had  travelled  me  out  of  his  sphere  altogether- 


LOGGINGS.  283 

I  may  tell  you  that  the  fear  that  he  would  act  in 
this  way  haunted  rue  incessantly,  and  made  me  a 
good  deal  more  cautious  than  my  temper  would 
otherwise  have  suffered  me  to  behave.  I  know 
very  well  that  I  would  again  and  again  have 
defiantly  rung  the  bell  of  Clifton  Lodge  and  asked 
after  Florence ;  I  would  have  hung  about  the 
house;  I  would  have  spared  no  extraordinary  pains 
and  expense  to  communicate  by  letter  with  the 
darling  of  my  heart  had  I  been  sufficiently  well-to- 
do  to  have  followed  in  the  wake  of  old  Hawke  all 
over  the  world — that  is,  if  I  ended  in  driving  him 
out  of  Clifton.  But  it  was  very  certain  that  if 
Alphonso  carried  his  daughter  away  from  England, 
I  should  be  'sewed  up,'  as  Jack  says,  for  want  of 
funds  to  stick  to  his  skirts.  What  sort  of  a  pursuit 
of  them  through  Europe  should  I  have  been  able 
to  make  on  something  less  than  five  pounds  a 
week?  Many  a  long  talk  would  I  have  on  this 
subject  with  Sophie  and  Amelia,  who  always  tried 
to  persuade  me  that  Mr.  Hawke  was  not  a  man 
to  leave  his  home  and  wander  about  the  Continent 
with  his  daughter  merely  to  shake  off  a  young 
fellow  whose  attentions  were  objectionable ;  but 
I  was  not  so  sure.  I  would  say,  "  Yes,  but  if 
Mr.  Hawke  has  set  his  heart  on  splicing  Florence 
to  Morecombe,  and  if  Florence  is  unmistakably 
showing  by  her  manner  that  she  has  a  liking  for 
me,  and  growing  low-spirited  and  so  forth,  then  in 


284  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

my  opinion  he  is  just  the  sort  of  man  to  take 
strong  measures  to  end  (as  he  might  hope)  a 
business  that  is  putting  a  stop  to  his  queer 
ambition.  Other  fathers  have  done  stranger  and 
more  troublesome  things  than  taking  their  daughters 
away  for  a  year  or  two  in  order  to  warp  the  girls 
clear  of  the  men  who  are  not  wanted." 

"  Ay,  but  Jack,"  I  remember  Amelia  answering, 
"  do  you  think  that  Mr.  Hawke  attaches  all  the 
significance  you  think  he  does  to  your  admiration 
for  Florence  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  I.  "I  told  him  I  wanted  to 
marry  his  daughter,  and  I  suppose  he  knows  what 
that  means." 

"And  do  you  suppose,  Amelia,"  said  Sophie, 
always  at  my  side  fighting  for  me,  "  that  Florence 
has  not  given  her  papa  to  understand  that  she  is 
fond  of  Jack  ?  If  he  thought  that  Jack's  admira- 
tion did  not  signify,  why  should  he  have  called  at 
his  lodgings  and  requested  him  to  discontinue 
admiring  Florence  and  leave  Bristol  ?  " 

Amelia  had  no  reply  to  make  to  this ;  but  she 
still  declared  that  in  her  opinion  Mr.  Hawke  was 
not  so  frightened  of  me  as  to  go  abroad  with  his 
daughter  and  leave  his  home  for  the  length  of  time 
that  would  be  needful  to  make  such  a  measure  as 
that  of  use. 

"I  earnestly  hope  he  is  not,"  said  I;  "  but  we 
shall  see." 


LOGGINGS.  2Sr> 

Well,  the  days  rolled  on,  and  never  once  did  I 
set  eyes  on  Florence  nor  hear  of  her.  Utterly 
disheartened,  I  abandoned  the  punctual  visit  I  had 
made  to  my  uncle's  house  in  the  hope  of  finding 
her  talking  to  my  cousins.  Nor  did  I  ever  en- 
counter her  in  the  streets,  though  several  times 
I  met  the  Hawkes'  carriage,  sometimes  occupied 
by  Hawke  and  Emily,  sometimes  by  Emily  and 
a  friend,  and  on  the  last  occasion  by  an  elderly 
lady  with  a  sharp  face  and  a  wide  brown  hat, 
whom  I  privately  suspected  to  be  Aunt  Damans, 
though  she  was  rattled  past  too  quickly  to  enable 
me  to  tell  more  than  her  countenance  was  of 
a  severe  and  hatchet-like  aspect.  Over  and  over 
again  would  I  ask  Sophie  or  Amelia,  and  very 
often  my  uncle,  if  there  was  any  news  of  Florence. 
They  would  be  one  day  able  to  inform  me  that  she 
was  still  in  Clifton,  another  day  that  somebody  had 
said  she  was  better,  later  on  that  somebody  had 
said  she  was  quite  well,  that  Miss  Jones  had  met 
her  with  her  aunt  at  a  circulating  library,  that 
Dr.  Thompson  was  at  a  dinner  party  at  Clifton 
Lodge  and  said  that  Florence  was  present  and 
looked  lovely,  and  so  on;  and  once  my  aunt  was 
sure  that  Florence  was  with  her  father  in  then-  car- 
riage, but  she  would  not  look,  as  she  did  not  want 
to  catch  Mr.  Hawke's  eye  or  appear  to  see  him. 

Of  course   whatever   there   was   of    mystery  in 
Florence's  withdrawal  from  us  was  wholly  due  to 


286  JACK'S   COUKTSHIP. 

my  impatience  ;  for  I  would  forget  to  consider  that 
a  week  in  those  days  seemed  as  long  as  a  year,  and 
that  for  some  time  she  had  been  indisposed  and 
confined  to  the  house.  But  I  who  was  half  crazy 
to  see  her,  immoderately  jealous  to  behold  her 
sweet  face  that  I  might  interpret  from  it  some  sign 
of  thought,  some  hint  of  expression  favourable  to 
my  passionate  wishes,  found  a  week  passed  without 
seeing  her  as  long,  as  I  have  said,  as  a  year,  and 
naturally  fell  into  many  harassing  and  distracting 
conceits  respecting  her. 

"  It  is  all  very  well,"  I  said  to  Sophie,  "  for  Miss 
Jones  and  Mr.  Kobinson  and  Dr.  Thompson  and 
the  rest  of  them  to  tell  you  that  she  drives  and 
walks  and  dines  and  is  cured  of  her  cold  ;  but  how 
the  deuce  is  it  I  never  see  her  ?  How  is  it  you 
don't  meet  her  ?  Does  she  take  another  road  when 
she  calls  upon  her  poor  families  ?  Why  did  she 
write  that  she  hoped  we  should  meet  when  she 
passed  your  house  and  caught  sight  of  you,  if 
she  meant  nothing  by  it  ?  " 

Whereupon  Sophie  with  much  good  sense  ex- 
plained that  in  all  probability  Florence  had  not 
felt  well  enough  to  call  upon  her  poor  families,  and 
consequently  had  had  no  occasion  to  pass  along  the 
road  in  which  my  uncle's  house  stood ;  also  that, 
for  anything  we  could  tell,  her  papa  had  prohibited 
her  from  walking  alone,  "in  which  case,  Jack," 
said  she,  "it  would  be  better  not  to  meet;  for  if 


LOGGINGS.  287 

she  should  he  with  Emily  or  Mr.  Hawke  we  should 
have  to  pass  her,  which  would  he  very  paiuful  and 
embarrassing  to  her  and  us  ;  and  if  she  were  with 
her  aunt  we  might  really  risk  being  insulted  by 
stopping  to  shake  hands,  for  depend  upon  it 
Mr.  Hawke  has  poisoned  his  sister's  mind  against 
us  all,  so  that  there  is  no  telling  how  Aunt  Damaris 
might  behave  were  we  to  meet." 

However,  about  ten  days  or  a  fortnight  after  the 
arrival  of  Aunt  Damaris — it  is  convenient  to  make 
the  movements  of  that  old  lady  a  scoring-peg  in 
these  recollections — I  had  been  dining  with  my 
uncle,  and  was  lingering  with  the  others  over  the 
dessert,  when  Cobb,  the  man-servant,  entered  with 
a  letter,  which  he  gave  to  Sophie.  She  immediately 
exclaimed :  "  It  is  from  Florence  !  "  and  read  it. 
You  may  conceive  that  I  watched  her  fat  face 
attentively. 

"Well,"  cried  my  uncle,  "what  does  Jack's 
Delight  say  ?  Any  loving  messages  ?  Does  she 
send  me  a  kiss  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  ridiculous,  Charles  ! "  exclaimed  my 
aunt. 

"  She  is  going  to  Scotland,"  said  Sophie. 

"  What !  ",  I  shouted ;  and  I  let  drop  the  dessert 
knife  and  fork  I  was  plying,  and  fell  back  in  my 
chair. 

"  Don't  faint,  Jack  !  "  bawled  my  uncle. 
"  Amelia,  give  your  cousin  a  glass  of  brandy." 


288  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

"  What  is  she  going  to  do  in  Scotland,  Sophie  ?  " 
I  asked  in  a  weak  voice. 

"  Eead  the  letter  aloud,  Sophie,"  said  my  uncle. 
"  Sing  it  out,  my  love.  We're  all  related  here,  and 
there  are  no  secrets.     Now  then." 

Whereupon  Sophie  read  as  follows  : — 

"Deadest  Sophie, 

"I  am  so  very  sorry  to  have  been  able 
to  see  nothing  of  you  of  late.  No  doubt  you  know 
that  I  was  confined  to  the  house  for  a  week  with 
a  violent  cold,  which  at  one  time  the  doctor  was 
afraid  might  lead  to  an  attack  of  pleurisy,  as  I 
suffered  a  great  deal  from  pain  in  the  side. 
However,  I  am  now  quite  well.  Aunt  Damaris  is 
.with  us,  and  she  has  taken  me  under  her  wing. 
Papa  is  very  glad  to  have  her.  Her  visit  will  last 
about  a  month  or  six  weeks,  and  she  has  made  the 
voyage  merely  for  her  health  and  for  the  sake  of 
seeing  us.  I  am  writing  chiefly  to  let  you  know 
that  Aunt  Damaris,  papa,  Emily,  and  I  are  going 
to  Scotland  to-morrow,  though  how  long  we  shall 
be  away  I  do  not  know,  nor  can  I  tell  you  yet  the 
place  we  shall  stay  at,  as  nothing  will  be  arranged 
until  we  have  arrived  in  Edinburgh.  At  all  events, 
you  will  know  in  what  part  of  the  world  I  am. 
Papa  says  the  excursion  is  necessary  for  my 
health,  and  it  is  to  be  made  for  me  alone.  But 
indeed  I  am  quite  well,  and  do  not  feel  to  need  any 


LOGGINGS.  2  89 

change,  and  am  very  sorry  to  leave  Clifton,  even 
for  a  short  time.  If  I  can  manage  to  write  to  you 
from  Scotland,  I  will.  Meanwhile  accept  my  dear 
love,  and  remember  me  most  affectionately  to  your 
papa  and  mamma  and  Amelia. 

"Yours  sincerely, 

"  Florence  Hawke. 

"  Do  not  forget  to  remember  me  to  your  cousin 
Jack.  Is  he  still  at  Bristol,  and  will  he  remain 
there  now,  do  you  suppose  ?" 

"  That's  all,*'  said  Sophie ;  and  she  put  the 
letter  into  the  envelope  and  passed  it  to  me. 

"  A  woman's  meaning  is  always  reserved  for  her 
postscripts,"  observed  my  uncle.  "  Florence's  love 
to  you,  Sophie,  and  her  affectionate  remembrance 
to  us  will  not  do.  Her  letter  is  meant  for  Jack, 
and  for  nobody  else." 

'*  And  that  is  why  I  have  given  it  to  Jack," 
Sophie. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt,"  said  my  aunt, 
"judging  from  her  allusion  to  Miss  Damaris 
Hawke,  that  that  lady  is  acting  as  Florence's 
duenna." 

"I  am  sure  of  it!"  exclaimed  Amelia.  "  My 
belief  is  that  Mr.  Hawke  has  refused  to  allow  her 
to  walk  alone.  You  will  find  that  her  aunt  has 
always  accompanied  her  since  she  has  been  well 
enough  to  leave  the  house." 

V.'L.    I.  E 


290  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

"  How  neatly  the  girl  puts  it,"  said  my  uncle. 
"  '  Aunt  Damaris  has  taken  me  under  her  wing.' 
The  sentence  tells  an  immense  story — long  argu- 
ments, a  few  shindies,  a  mass  of  abuse  of  us, 
scorn  and  hate  of  Jack  yonder,  and,  as  a  result, 
Aunt  Damaris  with  that  boy's  sweetheart  under 
her  lean  arm !  But  cheer  up,  Jack — Aunt  Damaris' 
visit  is  only  to  last  six  weeks." 

I  had  been  reading  Florence's  letter,  and  now 
put  it  in  my  pocket  as  my  uncle  addressed  me.  I 
was  foolishly  depressed,  and  felt  myself  haggard 
and  long-faced.  "I  told  you,  Sophie,"  said  I, 
"  that  Mr.  Hawke  would  carry  Florence  away. 
This  is  but  the  first  step." 

"  The  first  step  to  what  ?  "  my  uncle  asked. 
"Why,  to  a  long  tour  abroad  in  the   hope   of 
curing  Florence  of  her  liking  for  me." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  my  aunt ;  "  and 
if  Mr.  Hawke  decides  upon  leaving  England,  I 
should  never  be  surprised  to  hear  that  young 
Mr.  Morecombe  has  accompanied  him  and  his 
daughter." 

"  Well,  if  he  goes  he  can't  take  his  house  with 
him,"  said  my  uncle  ;  "  he  is  bound  to  come  back 
sooner  or  later ;  so  that  all  you  have  to  do,  Jack, 
is  to  lay  in  a  good  stock  of  tobacco  and  wait  here 
for  your  friends  to  heave  in  sight." 

"  Fancy  Jack  being  the  first  to  meet  them  at 
the  railway  station  on  their  return  after  an  absence 


LOGGINGS.  291 

of  three  or   four  years,"  said   Amelia,   laughing. 
"  How  pleased  Mr.  Hawke  would  be  to  see  him  !  " 

"  There's  nothing  funny  that  I  can  see," 
exclaimed  Sophie,  looking  at  me  sympathetically. 
"  The  meaning  of  it  to  you,  Jack,  is  that  Florence 
is  in  love  with  you,  and  that  her  papa  thinks  he 
can  change  her  mind  by  changing  the  scene.  He 
is  very  much  mistaken ;  and  so  long  as  you  can 
feel  that  she  is  faithful  it  ought  to  be  all  the  same 
whether  she  is  in  Clifton  or  Scotland." 

"  Sophie,  it  is  really  no  business  of  ours,  my 
love,"  said  her  mother  mildly  but  significantly. 
*'We  all  wish  Mr.  Jack  every  success  in  his  difficult 
courtship ;  but  under  the  circumstances  there 
must  be  some  little  impropriety  in  your  identifying 
yourself  with  it  too  zealously." 

"  I  love  Florence  and  I  love  my  cousin,  mamma," 
said  Sophie,  "and  I  do  not  like  to  see  them  un- 
happy." 

I  jumped  from  my  chair,  ran  round  the  table, 
and  kissed  her.  It  was  the  first  kiss  I  had  ever 
given  the  dear  girl,  and  a  heartier  smack  of  the  lips 
was  never  administered.  "It  is  the  only  way  in 
which  I  can  thank  you  for  your  speech,  my  darling," 
said  I ;  and  I  returned  to  my  chair,  leaving  Sophie 
blushing,  Amelia  rather  pale,  my  aunt  alarmed, 
and  my  uncle  grinning  from  ear  to  ear. 


292  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

I   RETURN    TO    LONDON. 

Well,  sure  enough,  Florence  was  carried  off  to  Scot- 
land next  day  by  her  papa  and  Aunt  Damaris ;  with 
them  went  Emily,  and  Clifton  Lodge  was  left  in 
charge  of  the  butler  and  the  house-keeper.  Never 
did  I  pass  such  a  night  as  that  which  preceded  my 
darling's  departure.  Sleep  !  Bless  your  heart  aliver 
mates,  never  in  an  all-night  job  at  sea,  bending 
brand-new  canvas,  amid  a  whirling  darkness  of 
spume  and  vapour,  in  the  room  of  the  shreds  which 
streamed  from  hanks  and  jackstays  and  boltropes, 
reducing  sail  bit  by  bit,  heaving  to,  standing  by 
for  those  quarter-deck  yells  which  were  never  long 
in  coming,  was  I  wider  awake.  Over  and  over 
again  I  made  up  my  mind  to  follow  her  next  day — 
to  hang  about  the  station  until  she  and  the  others 
arrived,  and  then  jump  into  the  train  with  them ; 
and  I  only  succeeded  in  dissuading  myself  from 
that  suicidal  project  by  vowing  that  I  would  be  up 
and  away  for  the  North  the  instant  Sophie  was- 


I  RETURN   TO  LONDON.  293 

able  to  tell  me  in  what  part  of  Scotland  old  Hawke 
had  come  to  a  stand.  I  must  have  lighted  and 
extinguished  my  candle  a  dozen  times  that  night, 
for  I  would  bundle  out  of  the  sheets  and  walk  about 
the  bedroom,  reading  Florence's  letter  to  Sophie 
and  looking  at  her  likeness,  and  then  roll  into  bed 
again  and  put  out  the  light  in  the  hope  of  falling 
asleep,  and  afterwards  turn  to  and  have  another 
scratch  at  the  lucifer  box  to  satisfy  some  doubt  by 
taking  a  fresh  squint  at  the  letter,  and  so  on  and 
so  on  until  the  sun  arose  and  the  blessed  dickybirds 
chirped. 

The  only  crumb  of  comfort  I  could  find  lay  in 
what  my  uncle  had  suggested — that  the  letter  to 
Sophie  was  really  meant  for  me.  I  was  in  her 
thoughts  when  she  wrote,  as  the  postscript  proved. 
Me  it  was  for  whom  the  news  of  her  going  to  Scot- 
land was  intended.  That  reference  to  her  being 
under  Aunt  Damaris'  wing  was  to  let  me  know  why 
she  had  given  me  no  chance  of  seeing  her.  And 
what  was  the  postscript  but  like  asking  me  if  I 
meant  to  forget  her  because  her  papa  was  taking 
her  away  ?  Forget  her !  as  often  as  I  read  that 
sweet  P.S.  so  often  would  I  kiss  her  likeness;  and  I 
desire  here  to  make  my  compliments  to  the  French 
gentleman  who  photographed  her  on  the  indelibility 
of  his  printing,  for  had  the  portrait  been  an 
en'aceable  thing  I  was  bound  to  have  kissed  away 
every   trace    of  my   pet's   face  and  figure,   ay,  as 


294  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

completely  as  a  shower  of  rain  takes  the  curl  out 
of  a  feather. 

But,  oh !  in  spite  of  her  letter,  in  spite  of  the 
encouragement  I  found  in  it,  the  prospect  of  her 
absence,  the  cooling  effect  that  might  be  produced 
in  her  by  my  being  out  of  sight,  the  possibility  of 
young  Morecombe  forming  one  of  the  party,  the 
result  of  the  formidable  influence  which  would  now 
be  exerted  by  the  combined  powers  of  Alphonso 
and  Damaris  Hawke,  rendered  contemplation 
absolutely  hideous.  I  was  harassed  by  a  mis- 
giving as  heavy  as  a  presentiment  that  this  was 
but  the  first  of  old  Hawke's  steps,  and  that  the  next 
would  carry  him  and  Florence  out  of  the  United 
Kingdom,  leagues  beyond  the  reach  of  my  slender 
purse.  No  doubt  in  time  the  old  fellow  would  return 
and  bring  his  daughter  with  him ;  but  suppose  More- 
combe accompanied  them,  and  Florence,  sick  of 
travelling  and  worried  by  her  aunt  and  papa, 
consented  to  marry  him ;  or  suppose  in  their 
journeys  they  met  some  agreeable  young  man 
who'd  shove  me  overboard  out  of  Florence's  heart ; 
or  suppose  that  travel  enlarged  her  mind  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  make  her  admit  to  her  father  that 
though  she  declined  to  marry  Morecombe  she  now 
saw  that  he  was  right  in  his  notion  that  a  young 
seafaring  chap  on  a  small  income,  without  pros- 
pects or  occupation,  was  not  after  all  quite  up 
to  the  mark  as  a  match  for  a  young  lady  who  was 
a  beauty  and  would  have  a  fortune  ? 


I   RETURN  TO  LONDON*.  205 

But  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose.  Half  the  misery 
of  life  lies  in  it.  They  have  a  good  saying  at  sea : 
il  Suppose  your  aunt  had  whiskers,  what  a  very  rum 
uncle  she  would  make  !  " 

Well,  my  lads,  the  Hawke  family  went  away  to 
Scotland  that  day  I  knew  they  were  gone  by 
taking  a  walk  in  the  afternoon  past  Clifton  Lodge, 
and  observing  that  the  blinds  were  down  as  though 
somebody  lay  dead  in  the  house. 

However,  before  a  week  had  gone  by  I  discovered, 
now  that  Florence  was  three  or  four  hundred  miles 
distant,  that  nry  Bristol  lodgings  were  altogether 
too  small  and  dull  to  be  tolerable.  Mrs.  Chump 
became  an  eyesore;  the  prospect  over  the  wa}- 
a  mortification  every  time  I  looked  out  of  window. 
I  was  tired  of  Bristol  city,  and  though  I  could  have 
spent  another  month  or  two  very  happily  at  my 
uncle's  house,  where  the  evenings  were  always 
cheerful  and  the  days  full  of  the  business  of  driving 
and  riding  and  dining,  and  so  forth,  yet  as  I  did 
not  choose  to  return,  heartily  welcome  as  I  knew  1 
should  be,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  London  and 
await  news  of  Florence  from  Sophie  ;  for  in  Lon- 
don I  could  make  time  fly  faster  than  ever  I  could 
drive  it  in  the  country,  and  all  that  I  desired  now 
was  to  get  rid  of  the  weeks  during  which  Florence 
was  to  be  absent  from  Clifton.  I  announced  my 
intention  to  my  relatives  on  an  occasion  when  we 
were  all  together.     They  tried  hard  to  persuade  me 


296  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

to  return  to  tkern,  but  I  was  firm,  I  was  consci- 
entious, I  was  highly  moral.  No  !  it  was  a  ques- 
tion of  delicacy  :  I  desired  that  Mr.  Hawke  might 
fully  understand  that  my  aunt  and  family  had  no 
share  in  the  courtship  I  had  undertaken  :  and  with 
many  thanks  therefore  I  declined  to  be  their  guest. 

"  I  won't  call  you  a  swab  again,  Jack,  because 
you  didn't  like  it  before,"  said  my  uncle,  "but  if  I 
knew  of  another  word  to  express  the  same  thing, 
dash  my  wig  if  I  wouldn't  bestow  it  upon  you." 

My  aunt  and  Sophie,  however,  came  to  my 
rescue,  particularly  my  aunt,  who  said  that  though 
she  was  very  sorry  I  refused  to  stay  with  them,  yet 
she  thoroughly  respected  the  feelings  which  made 
me  decline. 

"  And  how  long  d'ye  mean  to  stop  in  London  ?  " 
said  my  uncle. 

I  looked  at  Sophie  and  answered,  "  It  will 
depend." 

"  What  will  Florence  say  when  she  returns  and 
finds  that  her  faithful  shepherd  has  given  up  watch- 
ing the  landscape  which  has  been  sanctified  by  the 
feet  of  his  lovely  Chloe  ?  "  asked  Amelia. 

I  gave  her  a  nod  and  a  smile,  as  much  to  say, 
"  Don't  trouble  yourself :  I'll  arrange  for  all  that." 

"  Jack  knows  his  own  business,"  said  my  uncle  ; 
"  we  have  no  right  to  interrogate  him,  more  especi- 
ally since  we  have  all  been  prohibited  from  having 
a  finger  in  his  pie,"  looking  at  his  wife. 


I  RETURN   TO  LOXDOX.  297 

And  so  the  matter  ended,  so  far  as  this  particular 
passage  was  concerned  :  though  that  same  evening, 
being  alone  with  Sophie,  I  had  a  long  talk  with  her, 
in  which  I  gave  her  all  my  reasons  for  not  stopping 
at  her  house,  and  then  went  on  to  explain  that  my 
wits  were  growiug  rusty  in  the  Bristol  lodgings, 
which  were  horribly  dull,  and  that  a  return  to 
London  would  freshen  me  up  and  enable  me  to 
apply  myself  with  livelier  spirits,  if  not  with  a 
sturdier  resolution,  to  the  job  of  winning  Florence 
Hawke. 

"  M37  programme  then  is  this,  Jack,  is  it  ?  "  said 
she  ;  "if  Florence  writes  to  me  from  Scotland  I  am 
to  answer  her  letter,  and  to  speak  of  you  in  it." 

"Yes." 

"  What  shall  I  say  about  you  ?  " 

"  All  that  you  like— all  that  I  feel,  Sophie.  Tell 
her  that  I  grew  dull  in  lodgings,  that  I  have 
returned  to  London  to  recruit  my  spirits,  and  to 
kill  the  horribly  tedious  time  which  her  absence 
makes  life  to  be,  but  that  I  shall  come  to  Bristol 
by  the  first  train  that  follows  your  letter  in  which 
you  inform  me  she  has  arrived." 

••  Very  well,"  said  Sophie  ;  "  mamma  can't  object, 
for  it  is  really  only  newt,  and  one  must  say  some- 
thing when  one  writes  a  letter.  But  suppose  my 
epistle  should  fall  into  Mr.  Hawke's  hands  ?  " 

"  There's  a  risk  in  everything,"  I  replied  ;  "we 
must  take  our  chance.     If  Florence  wishes  to  hear 


29S  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

from  you — in  the  hope  of  hearing  about  me — I 
dare  say  she  will  manage  to  receive  the  letter  and 
keep  it  to  herself." 

"Well,  we'll  see  first  whether  she  writes,  and  I 
can  then  decide  how  to  act  by  what  she  says," 
exclaimed  Sophie.     "And  what  else  must  I  do  '?" 

"  Keep  a  look-out  for  my  darling — get  any  news 
that  you  can  lay  hold  of,  and  forward  it  to  me 
slap  !  " 

"  On  which  you  will  come  to  Bristol  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  To  your  present  lodgings  ?  " 

"Well,  I  don't  know:  I'll  see  about  that," 
said  I. 

"And  what  is  your  policy  afterwards?"  said 
Sophie. 

"  Why,"  cried  I,  "to  meet  her  as  often  as  I  can, 
to  get  her  to  own  that  she  loves  me,  to  hang  on  to 
her  with  my  very  eyelashes  sooner  than  let  go,  and 
— and — yes,  Sophie,"  said  I,  grasping  her  arm,  "  if 
her  father  refuses  his  sanction,  if  she  will  consent, 
to— to " 

"What!"  whispered  Sophie,  looking  thrilled: 
"not  an  elopement  ?  " 

"  A  secret  marriage,"  I  exclaimed.  "  Why  not ; 
would  it  be  the  first  that  had  ever  taken  place  ? 
If  it  is  to  be  pull  devil  pull  baker  between  Hawke 
and  me,  the  weakest  must  be  dragged,  i"  don't 
want    anything    clandestine.      Much    as    I   hate 


I  RETURN   TO  LONDON.  209 

marriage  ceremonies,  with  their  favours,  speeches, 
dresses,  and  blubberings,  I'd  rather  go  through 
fifty  weddings  with  my  sweetheart  than  bolt  with 
her.  But  if  Florence  loves  me  and  I  love  her,  and 
we're  resolved  to  have  each  other  and  Hawke  won't 
hear  of  it,  what's  the  right  step  ?  Yield  to  the  old 
man  ?     Never  !  "  cried  I,  brandishing  my  fist. 

Sophie's  fat  face  was  full  of  emotion.  "  Upon 
my  word,  Jack,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  believe  you'll 
end  in  making  a  real  romance  of  your  love.  What 
desperate  ideas  you  have  !  I'm  sure  Florence  ought 
to  feel  very  much  flattered." 

But  let  me  coil  these  lengths  of  plans  down,  and 
hang  them  over  the  pin  they  belong  to  out  of  the 
road,  for  when  I  come  to  think  how  they,  like  a 
good  many  other  schemes  I  have  formed  in  my 
life,  warped  me  not  an  inch  forward,  though  all  the 
beef  that  was  in  me  I  applied  to  the  capstan  bar  as 
I  shouted,  I  feel  ashamed  to  write  them.  I  want 
to  put  nothing  but  the  truth  into  these  loggings, 
and  arrangements  that  never  came  to  anything 
somehow  don't  strike  me  as  facts.  You  might  as 
well  describe  dreams  or  reveries  as  plans  from 
which  as  little  emerged  as  would  come  from  an 
empty  eggshell  under  a  sitting  fowl.  And  these, 
my  hearties,  are  the  unpleasantest  parts  a  man  can 
light  upon  whilst  spinning  the  yarn  of  his  own 
doings  ;  for  nothing  proves  to  him  more  shrewdly 
how  big  a  fool  he  has  been  in  his  day,  than  his 


300  JACKS   COURTSHIP. 

having  to  confess  to  a  foresight  which  was  ahout  as 
perceptive  as  if  he  had  tied  his  head  up  in  a  bag. 
How  bigwigs  like  chancellors  and  statesmen  who 
want  posterity  to  respect  them  for  their  wisdom  can 
have  the  courage  to  sit  down  and  write  about  their 
lives,  hang  me  if  I  can  imagine  ;  unless,  indeed, 
they  make  a  lie  of  their  yarns  by  omitting  what- 
ever would  show  that  at  bottom  they  were  not  very 
much  wiser  than  you  or  me.  But  avast  now ! 
we've  had  enough  of  philosopherizing,  as  an  old 
shipmate  of  mine  called  all  ideas  which  oblige 
a  man  to  scratch  the  back  of  his  head  and  heave-to 
for  words. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  Florence  had  gone  to 
Scotland  that  I  went  away  to  London.  Mrs. 
Chump  was  sorry  to  lose  me.  I  dare  say  she 
would  have  risked  her  salvation  to  the  extent  of 
saying  I  was  out  when  I  was  in  had  I  agreed  to 
stop  on  those  terms.  But  her  lodgings  were  too 
small;  there  was  no  kind  of  figure  to  be  cut  in 
them  ;  they  were  as  dull  as  a  forepeak ;  and  so  I 
gave  them  up  for  good,  having  resolved  to  seek 
bigger  and  better-looking  rooms  when  I  returned. 
I  pass  over  the  leave-taking  from  my  relations.  I 
wanted  to  hand  over  the  balance  of  the  fifty  pounds 
my  uncle  had  given  me,  but  the  moment  I  opened 
my  mouth  on  that  subject  he  fell  into  a  passion, 
asked  me  what  I  took  him  to  be,  eyed  me  from 
head  to  foot,  and  inquired  in  a  cold  voice  whether  I 


I  RETURN  TO  LONDON. 

imposing  upon  him  when  I  said  I  had  heen  to 
sea,  since  no  sailor  man  would  treat  a  relation  so 
ill  as  to  offer  to  return  a  gift.  "  That  sort  of  thing," 
said  he,  "only  happens  hetween  sweethearts. 
When  Florence  has  become  thick  enough  with  you 
to  receive  your  gewgaws,  then  when  you  and  she 
quarrel  and  she  sends  your  Brummagem  stuff  back, 
you  may  pocket  it — there's  no  insult.  But  to  offer 
to  return  a  gift — not  a  loan — but  a  gift  to  a  gentle- 
man you're  on  good  terms  with — roast  me,  if  you 
don't  deserve  to  be  rope's-ended." 

So  I  kept  the  money,  nor  can  I  conscientiously 
say  that  it  went  against  my  grain  to  do  so ;  for 
after  all,  why  shouldn't  a  well-to-do  uncle  tip  his 
nephew  ?  and  what's  fifty  pounds  ?  Why,  I  could 
spend  twice  that  money  in  a  week  :  and  then,  faith, 
have  little  enough  to  keep  by  me  in  memory  of  it. 

I  was  pleased  to  observe  that  my  aunt  did  not 
much  like  saying  good-bye  to  me.  I  dare  say  she 
thought  that,  on  the  whole,  she  had  not  acted  very 
maternally  towards  the  motherless  shell-back  who 
had  given  his  heart  to  a  beauty  and  had  no  friend, 
if  he  had  not  his  relations,  to  say  a  word  for  him 
or  give  him  a  hand.  She  held  on  to  me  when  we 
bade  each  other  farewell,  said  a  hundred  kind 
things,  and  almost  gave  me  to  understand  that  if  1 
went  away  counting  upon  Sophie  she  was  not  dis- 
posed to  baulk  my  hopes.  My  cousins  accompanied 
me  to  the  station,  and  I  had  a  confidential  chat  with 


302  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

Sophie  on  the  platform,  whilst  Amelia  stood  a  little 
apart  in  respectful  recognition  of  the  mission  her 
kind,  affectionate,  loyal  sister  had  made  her  own. 

"You  shall  hear  without  fail,"  said  she,  "the 
moment  I  get  the  news  of  Florence's  return." 

"And  you  will  write  her  a  letter  all  ahout  me 
when  you  hear  from  her,  and  you'll  send  me  her 
letter,  Sophie  ?  And  I  wish  that  you  would  look 
about  at  your  leisure  for  some  comfortable  rooms, 
nearer  to  Clifton  Lodge  than  my  lodgings  were  .  .  ." 
And  I  was  mumbling  on  when  the  guard  interrupted 
me  by  a  loud  "  Jump  in,  please,  sir,  if  you're  going." 
"  God  bless  you,  Sophie  ;  I  shall  never  forget  what 
you  have  done  and  are  doing.  We  shall  meet  again 
soon.  Good-bye,  Amelia  ;  "  and  in  a  few  minutes 
Bristol  city  was  astern  of  me. 


(    303     ) 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

A     TERRIBLE    BLOW. 

As  well  as  I  can  remember,  I  had  been  about  two 
months  absent  from  London  when  I  returned  to  it ; 
though  when  I  entered  my  rooms  and  looked  about 
me  and  thought  of  the  day  when  my  uncle  drove  up 
and  introduced  himself  and  gave  me  that  invitation 
to  Clifton  which  had  ruined  my  peace  of  mind,  ay, 
as  completely  as  if  I  had  committed  a  forgery  or 
set  fire  to  a  church,  it  seemed  that  a  year,  and  a 
very  long  one  too,  had  elapsed  since  then.  But  I 
had  not  been  in  town  a  couple  of  days  before  I  dis- 
covered that  I  should  have  enjoyed  an  easier  mind 
had  I  stopped  in  Bristol.  I  had  hoped  to  find  the 
time  bowl  along;  I  reckoned  upon  getting  some 
amusement  out  of  my  old  town  habits,  and  return- 
ing to  my  courtship  the  fresher  for  the  change. 
But  I  mistook.  London  I  found  so  insipid  that  a 
positive  loathing  for  it  came  over  me.  My  club  was 
a  bore,  and  the  gossip  of  the  men  there,  their  cheap 
talk  about  the  new  actress,  Jenkins'  last  novel,  the 


304  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

quarrel  between  the  two  Q.C.'s,  and  the  like  imper- 
tinence, flat,  flatulent,  and  rank.  The  tragedian  I 
had  formerly  considered  a  great  artist  I  found  now 
to  be  a  poor  mouthing  impostor,  a  sham  made  up 
of  hair  and  gasps,  and  I  remember  wishing  I  had 
him  at  sea  when  his  yawling  drove  me  away  before 
the  end  of  the  first  act. 

The  truth  is,  I  ought  to  have  stopped  at  Bristol. 
In  London  I  was  peevish,  irritable,  moody ;  nothing- 
was  congenial ;  there  was  no  one  whose  arm  I  could 
take  and  pour  out  my  heart  to ;  I  felt  the  solitude 
described  by  Byron  when  he  speaks  of  a  man  being 
alone  in  crowds,  and  again  and  again  called  myself 
an  ass  for  not  sticking  to  the  country  where  I 
could  have  gone  on  musing  over  fell  and  flood.  At 
Bristol  I  had  Sophie ;  there  was  Clifton  Lodge  to 
look  at ;  there  were  spots  full  of  lovely  memories. 
But  London !  it  was  all  shoving  and  elbowing  in 
the  streets,  not  even  a  shop  window  that  I  could 
fix  upon  as  having  been  consecrated  by  Florence's 
gaze,  and  I  had  nothing  but  her  adorable  likeness 
to  console  me.  However,  since  I  had  come  to 
London  I  made  up  my  mind  to  stop  until  I  should 
hear  of  my  darling's  arrival  at  Bristol,  and  I  did 
not  want  my  relations  to  think  me  capricious  and 
unstable  by  returning  and  so  making  myself  out  as 
not  knowing  what  to  be  at.  Meanwhile  I  wrote  to 
Sophie  pretty  nearly  every  other  day,  venting 
myself  in  such  a  style  that  I  have  no  doubt,  were  I 


A   TERRIBLE   BLOW.  305 

now  to  see  my  letters  to  her,  I  should  feel  very 
heartily  ashamed  of  myself.  She  always  answered 
me  punctually,  and  somehow  always  managed  to 
make  out  a  long  letter,  though  the  dear  girl  had 
very  little  news  to  give  me  ;  but  her  sympathy  was 
delightful,  and  she  contrived  to  apologize  for 
Florence  not  writing  to  her  from  Scotland,  so  art- 
fully— she  invented  so  many  able  excuses  for  my 
sweetheart's  silence — that  for  a  pretty  good  spell  of 
time  I  do  not  recollect  very  keenly  feeling  the  dis- 
appointment of  opening  her  letters  and  finding  no 
second  inclosure.  She  might  be  ill,  Sophie  would 
suggest ;  or  perhaps  she  had  made  up  her  mind 
not  to  write  until  she  could  see  her  way  to  receive 
a  reply  unknown  to  her  papa,  who,  of  course,  was 
not  likely  to  sanction  any  correspondence  between 
her  and  the  Miss  Seymours ;  or  she  might  be 
under  a  kind  of  restraint  through  Aunt  Damaris' 
vigilance. 

Well,  Sophie's  excuses  for  Florence  satisfied  me, 
as  I  have  said,  for  a  time ;  but  when  letter  after 
letter  arrived  from  my  cousin  without  a  word  from 
my  darling,  my  soul  grew  very  grievously  worried. 
Her  waiting  "  in  order  to  see  her  way  to  receive  a 
reply  unknown  to  her  papa  "  would  not  do  ;  it  did 
not  satisfy  me.  She  might  write,  anyway  ;  and  if 
she  could  not  get  Sophie's  answer  without  the  risk 
of  her  father  plumping  upon  it,  then  let  her  request 
my  cousin  not  to  address  a  letter  to  her.     Was 

VOL.   I.  X 


306  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

Aunt  Damans  prevailing  ?  Was  young  Morecombe 
with  her,  and  gathering  headway  ?  Was  absence, 
instead  of  making  the  heart  grow  fonder,  doing  the 
other  thing  ?  I  arrived  at  such  a  pass  that  I  would 
sometimes  say  to  myself,  "  Jack,  you  fool,  it  is  all 
up.  Your  dream  is  over,  my  lad.  This  is  your 
first  love  affair — you  see  what  it  has  come  to.  The 
girl  was  never  in  earnest.  She  enjoyed  your  being 
so  and  helped  you  to  sink,  because  all  women  like 
admiration,  and  there's  no  flattery  like  a  man's 
love.  That's  real ;  words  may  mean  anything,  but 
love's  a  fact,  something  to  lean  against,  something 
to  catch  hold  of.  What  will  you  do  uow  ?"  I  write 
light-heartedly  of  that  time ;  but  as  a  bit  of  living 
experience  it  did  this  for  me :  it  filled  me  for  the 
rest  of  my  life  with  compassion  for  man  or  woman 
who  loves  honestly  and  is  deceived.  There  are 
many  human  troubles  over  which  the  world  makes 
merry,  and  disappointed  love  is  among  them ;  for 
that,  perhaps,  we  have  to  thank  the  old  comedy 
writers  and  our  latter-day  cynics,  who  are  some- 
what sensitive  in  their  way,  too,  though  very  bitter ; 
but  depend  upon  it,  mates,  a  young,  generous, 
affectionate  heart  deceived  in  its  first  love  so  suffers 
as  to  be  a  mournful  sight.  Other  loves  may  follow, 
the  first  wound  may  be  healed,  the  scar  effaced,  but 
whilst  that  wound  is  fresh  the  torment  is  sharp 
enough  to  make  even  a  monkey  who  shall  witness  it 
pensive  ;  and  I  would  as  soon  now  think  of  jeering 


A   TERRIBLE  BLOW.  307 

at  the  nipping  and  blasting  of  the  first  pure  bud 
put  forth  by  human  affection  as  of  ridiculing  a 
person  praying,  or  laughing  at  a  mother  weeping 
over  her  dead  first-born. 

However,  I  had  not  to  wait  over  long  before 
coming  to  an  answer  to  my  question,  What  will  you 
do  now  ?  for  one  morning — and  this  made  the  time 
very  nearly  a  month  since  Florence  Hawke  had 
gone  to  Scotland — there  came  a  letter  from  Sophie, 
the  bulkiest  I  had  ever  had  from  her,  and  when  I 
opened  it  I  found  four  pages  of  crossed  handwriting 
from  Florence,  with  half  a  dozen  of  lines  from  my 
cousin,  who  struck  so  dismal  a  note  in  the  very 
little  she  said  that  I  am  able  to  recall  every  syllable 
of  it  from  the  memory  of  the  consternation  it  raised 
in  me.  "  My  poor  dear  Jack,"  she  began — think  of 
that:  poof  dear  Jack  ! — "  it  is  with  deep  sorrow  I 
send  you  Florence's  letter.  I  fear  it  will  greatly 
affect  you,  because  nobody  knows  so  well  as  I  how 
fond  you  are  of  her.  Yet  you  would  not  forgive  me 
if  I  did  not  keep  my  promise  to  forward  any  letter 
she  should  write.  You  must  cheer  up  and  try  to 
look  this  thing  bravely  in  the  face,  and  if  Florence 
and  you  are  fated  not  to  come  together,  why,  then, 
what  can  you  do  but  console  yourself  by  remember- 
ing that  there  are  as  good  fish  left  in  the  sea  as 
ever  came  out  of  it  ?  Yours  affectionately,  Sophie 
Sfamour." 

Lads,  I'll  not  attempt   to   describe    my  feeling 


308  JACK'S  GOURTSHIP. 

when  I  read  this.  I  was  all  of  a  tremble,  as  old 
chimney  hags  say.  I  rushed  to  the  conclusion  that 
my  darling  had  been  urged  to  accept  Mr.  Morecombe, 
and  was  going  to  be  married  to  him  in  due  course  ; 
and  the  groan  that  echoed  through  Sophie's  letter 
resounded  down  to  the  very  bottom  of  my  soul.  I 
took  up  Florence's  closely-written  sheet,  and  fell  to 
spelling  it  over  with  ashen  lips.  But  as  I  made  my 
way  into  the  network  of  words — why  will  girls  cross- 
their  letters  ;  is  not  paper  cheap  enough  ? — a 
sensation  very  different  from  the  one  first  excited 
was  produced  in  me.  It  was  a  kind  of  despair,  too, 
but  of  the  nature  of  a  pure  balsam  to  my  heart 
after  the  desperate  throb  that  had  first  wrenched  it. 
The  letter  was  addressed  to  Sophie  and  dated  at 
Dunkeld,  and  my  darling  began  by  explaining  that 
she  had  deferred  writing  to  Sophie  until  she  was 
able  to  communicate  something  positive.  "We 
have  been  here  a  fortnight,"  wrote  she,  "and  during 
that  time  I  have  watched  matters  gradually  shaping 
themselves  to  the  point  we  have  arrived  at,  and 
about  which  I  am  at  last  able  to  write  definitely." 
I  gathered  that  there  had  been  a  good  many 
"  scenes."  Aunt  Damaris  had  taken  her  in  hand 
and  remonstrated  with  her  for  rejecting  Mr. 
Morecombe.  The  young  fellow  called  upon  them 
in  London,  but  did  not  accompany  them  to 
the  North.  What  Aunt  Damaris  saw  of  him 
delighted    her.      She    was    lost    in    amazement 


A   TERRIBLE   BLOW.  309 

that    Florence    could     refuse    so    handsome,    so 
well-bred,   so   aristocratic  a  youth.      "I  will  not 
repeat,"    rny    adorable    girl    wrote,    "  the    argu- 
ments she  and  papa  have  used  to  try  and  make 
me  accept  a  person  I  never  could  like.     Between 
them  they  have  made  me  truly  unhappy.     Indeed, 
papa   seems   quite  to   have  lost  control  over  his 
temper,   and  never    neglects   a  chance   to    speak 
insultingly  of  your  cousin,  though  I  have  solemnly 
declared  to  him  that  Mr.  Jack  Seymour  has  had 
no  more  to  do  with  my  refusing  Mr.  Morecombe 
than  he  had  with  the  eclipse  of  the  moon  that  took 
place    last    month.      The  truth   is,   dear    Sophie, 
having   made   me    low-spirited   and    unhappy   by 
incessantly  worrying   me   about   Mr.    Morecombe, 
papa   and  Aunt   Damaris  have  at  last  persuaded 
themselves  that  I  am  pining  with  secret  love,  and 
what  do  you  suppose  they  have  decided  on  ?     I  am 
to  accompany  Aunt  Damaris  to  Sydney  next  month  ! 
She  sails  on  the  28th  in  the  Strathmor.e,  the  ship 
she  came  in,  so  that  I  have  three  weeks  before  me 
in  which  to  return  to  Clifton  Lodge,  make  arrange- 
ments for  the  voyage,  and  bid  you  all  good-bye. 
What  will  you  say  to  this  ?  and  do  you  ask  what  I 
think  ?     Well,  dear,  I  cannot  pretend  that  I  am 
sorry.     I   am  not  very  happy  just  now  at  home. 
Papa  does  not,  I  am  sure,  mean  all  he  says,  but  he 
is  crazy  about  Mr.  Morecombe,  and  I  may  tell  you 
in  strict  confidence  he  is  afraid  of  your  cousin — how 


310-  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

stwpid  men  are ! — and  I  Lave  to  thank  Aunt 
Damans  for  proposing  this  voyage,  which  is  of 
course  planned  with  the  idea  of  clearing  my  mind 
and  making  it  fit  to  receive  the  lovely  image  of 
Mr.  Morecombe.  I  shall  regret  to  leave  Clifton  and 
my  friends,  but  I  do  not  dislike  the  idea  of  the 
voyage;  It  will  be  a  treat  to  me  to  see  dear  old 
Sydney  again,  and  I  am  never  happier  than  when 
on  the  broad  ocean.  How  long  I  shall  be  away  it 
is  quite  impossible  to  guess ;  eighteen  months  or 
two  years,  I  dare  say."  There  was  a  great  deal 
more  in  her  letter  than  this,  but  all  that  concerns 
my  yarn  I  have  given. 

Well,  as  I  have  said,  the  truth  came  as  a  kind  of 
relief  to  me  after  the  fears  which  Sophie's  note  had 
excited.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  hear  that  she 
was  going  to  be  married  to  Mr.  Morecombe  ;  and  so 
passionately  did  I  love  her  that  had  that  been  the 
news  I  do  believe  it  would  have  affected  me  as  much 
as  if  I  had  heard  that  she  was  dying.  But  though 
the  first  movement  of  my  mind  was  comparatively 
one  of  pleasure,  when  I  read  the  letter  and  found 
that  let  her  relatives  worry  and  bully  her  as  much 
as  they  pleased  they  could  not  persuade  her  to  take 
Mr.  Morecombe,  yet  when  ray  mind  received  the 
full  meaning  of  her  father's  intention  to  send 
her  to  the  other  end  of  the  world,  I  felt  positively 
crushed,  and  sat  like  a  fool  staring  at  the  letter  in 
my  hand,  unable  to  form  any  ideas  and  incapable 


A   TERRIBLE   BLOW.  311 

of  understanding  more  than  that  some  thousands  of 
miles  of  ocean  were  to  be  put  between  my  darling 
and  me,  and  that  many  a  long  month  must  pass 
before  we  should  see  each  other,  if  indeed  we  ever 
again  met.  As  you  know,  I  had  for  some  time 
feared  that  a  great  deal  of  what  would  prove  bad  to 
me  was  to  happen.  I  had  calculated  upon  her 
father  carrying  her  out  of  England  and  roaming 
with  her  about  Europe  until,  as  I  have  before  said, 
he  might  flatter  himself  he  had  travelled  me  clean 
out  of  her  sphere  and  educated  her  into  a  proper 
conception  of  the  merits  of  the  youth  he  wanted  her 
to  marry;  but  never  had  I  reckoned  upon  his 
sending  her  to  Australia — that  is  to  say  the  other 
side  of  the  globe — right  away  past  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  and  across  the  Southern  Ocean  !  And  yet 
now  that  this  thing  was  settled  upon,  I  saw  that  it 
was  more  likety  he  would  send  his  daughter  to  her 
native  land  along  with  her  aunt,  than  turn  to  and 
make  a  martyr  of  himself  by  hauling  her  about 
Spain  and  France  and  such  countries.  Australia 
sounds  a  long  way  off,  but  even  as  a  sailing  voyage  it 
is  no  serious  business,  and  if  Hawke  supposed  that 
1  was  at  the  bottom  of  his  daughter's  refusal  of 
Mr.  Moreconibe,  if  he  considered  that  I  had  made 
her  fond  of  me,  and  that  the  only  chance  he  had  to 
bring  her  into  his  way  of  thinking  was  to  put  the 
horizon  between  her  and  me,  then  3*011  can't  say  ho 
was  ill-advised  in  seizing  the  opportunity  of  his 


ol2  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

sister's  return  to  Sydney  to  despatch  his  daughter 
with  her  to  that  place. 

But  as  for  me — what  was  now  to  do,  mates  ? 
For  a  whole  hour,  maybe,  I  sat  glaring  at  Florence's 
letter ;  and  then  something  resembling  my  senses 
coming  to  me,  I  wrote  four  or  five  pages  to  Sophie 
in  which  I  declared  that  my  heart  was  broken,  that 
I  had  a  dreadful  presentiment  upon  me  that 
Florence  and  I  were  never  to  meet  again,  that  as  to 
her  one  day  returning,  why,  if  I  found  three  or  four 
weeks  insupportable  without  the  prospect  of  meeting 
her,  how  was  I  to  endure  her  absence  for  two  years 
with  the  certainty  of  being  hopelessly  forgotten  by 
her  long  before  she  returned  !  In  short  my  letter 
came  very  near  to  being  a  piece  of  delirium ;  never- 
theless it  did  me  good  to  write  it,  and  I  took  care 
before  sealing  the  envelope  to  tell  Sophie  to  endea- 
vour to  communicate  what  I  had  said  to  Florence, 
that  she  might  know  what  a  miserable  bruised 
worm  she  would  leave  wriggling  on  Britannia's  soil 
behind  her  when  she  sailed. 


(    313 


CHAPTER    XYI. 

A    GRAND    IDEA. 

I  do  not  know  at  what  hour  of  that  blessed  day  the 
glimmer  of  the  notion  that  came  to  grow  into  a 
determined  scheme  might  have  been  visible  upon 
my  mind;  I  reckon  it  would  be  in  the  evening. 
But  be  this  as  it  may,  I  was  sitting  in  my  lodging 
with  Florence's  letter  in  my  hand,  when  on  a  sudden 
I  found  nryself  thinking,  "  Strathmorc — Strathmorc 
— why,  that's  the  name  of  one  of  the  ships  belonging 
to  the  employ  I  was  in.  She  will  be  an  Australian 
liner  too ;  "  and  I  took  up  a  daily  newspaper  and 
ran  down  the  shipping  advertisements,  and  after  a 
little  lighted  upon  this  : 

"  For  Sydney  direct,  taking  passengers  at  through 
rates  to  other  ports  in  Australia  and  Xewr  Zealand, 
for  which  a  separate  arrangement  must  be  made, 
the  magnificent  composite  clipper  ship  Strathmorc , 
100,  a  1,  1,381  tons  register,  Daniel  Thompson, 
Commander;  lying  for  inspection  in  the  East  India 
Docks.     This  favourite  regular  trading  vessel  is  one 


314  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

of  the  fastest  ships  in  the  Australian  trade.  Her 
cabins  are  elegantly  fitted  and  supplied  with  every 
convenience,  including  beds  and  bedding.  She  will 
carry  a  surgeon.  For  further  particulars  apply  to 
Duncan,  Golightly,  el'  Co.,  Fenchurch  Street, 
London.'' 

This  then  was  the  Strathmore,  sister  ship  to  the 
Portia,  rny  last  vessel,  owned  by  my  late  em- 
ployers ;  and  unless  there  was  more  than  one  man 
of  the  same  name  in  that  service  she  was  com- 
manded by  an  old  shipmate  of  mine,  Daniel 
Thompson,  who  had  been  second  mate  of  the 
Montrose  when  I  was  in  her  as  third.  Now  ever 
since  I  had  given  up  the  sea  as  a  profession  my 
thoughts  and  tastes  had  held  so  steadily  landwards 
that  I  don't  remember  I  had  once  gone  so  far  as 
even  to  glance  at  the  shipping  advertisements  in 
search  of  a  familiar  name,  whilst  during  the  three 
years  I  had  been  ashore  I  was  never  nearer  to 
the  region  where  the  docks  of  the  port  of  London 
lie  than  Leadenhall  Street.  Nor  (perhaps  because 
1  stuck  tenaciously  to  the  west  end  of  the  town)  had 
I  in  all  that  time  crossed  the  path  of  a  former  ship- 
mate. Stay  !  three  months  after  I  had  been  ashore 
I  met  a  third  mate  I  knew,  slightly  disguised  in 
liquor,  in  Waterloo  Place.  He  would  have  lovingly 
embraced  me,  but  I  dodged  his  arms  and  sent  him 
off  happy  with  the  loan  of  half  a  sovereign,  which 
he    said  would  be   all   the   monev  he  had  in  the- 


A  GRAND   IDEA.  315 

world;    but   he  was  the   only  Bailor-man  of  my 

acquaintance   I   had   encountered  since  I  left  the 
sea. 

This  long  severance  from  ni}*  old  life  made  it 
seem  a  great  way  off,  and  when  I  read  the  name 
of  Strathmore  and  Daniel  Thompson,  memories 
which  appeared  to  belong  to  another  world  rose 
up,  and  I  fell  a-musing  whilst,  without  the  least 
presentiment  of  what  was  to  come  from  this  new 
train  of  thought,  I  raked  about  in  the  dust  of  my 
mind  for  recollections  and  constructed  a  picture 
with  them  of  my  seafaring  days.  There  are  a 
great  man}*  miracles  in  this  world,  from  the 
animalcule  you  can't  see  down  to  the  man  so 
constituted  by  nature  as  to  be  able  to  raise  his 
foot  to  a  woman ;  but  there  is  nothing  in  that  line 
to  beat  the  mechanism  of  thinking;  the  way  in 
which  the  imagination  catches  hold  of  the  crank 
of  the  mind  and  turns  it,  bringing  up  idea  after 
idea,  all  in  a  beautiful  and  logical  procession, 
just  as  you  may  see  a  steam-winch  rattling  up 
"  notions "  from  the  hold  of  a  ship  at  a  dis- 
charging berth.  The  sight  of  that  advertisement 
about  the  Strathmore,  and  my  old  shipmate  Dan 
Thompson,  sent  me  to  sea  again  right  out  of  hand, 
and  though  I  was  within  a  pistol-shot  of  Regent 
Street,  with  the  roar  of  rolling  omnibuses  and  cabs 
in  the  air,  and  the  smell  of  London  strong  in  my 
nostrils,  I  was  as  much  upon  the  ocean  as  I  sat  in 


316  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

my  armchair  with  the  newspaper  on  my  knee 
and  my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  wall,  as  though  the 
Pacific  Ocean  was  around  me  and  the  ship  eighty 
days  out.  I  had  boarded  the  Stratkmore  in  Sydney 
Bay,  and  as  she  was  built  by  the  firm  who  had 
turned  out  the  Portia  and  was  constructed  on  the 
same  lines,  was  of  the  same  measurement  as  that 
vessel  and  fitted  exactly  like  her,  why,  you  may 
suppose  when  I  put  myself  upon  her  poop  in  fancy, 
I  saw  her  as  clear  as  a  man  might  figure  the  wife 
of  his  bosom  by  recalling  her  appearance.  One 
thought  led  to  another.  I  pictured  Florence 
aboard,  Captain  Thompson  mightily  taken  by  her 
beauty,  and  giving  her  his  arm  for  a  walk  to  wind- 
ward whenever  there  was  seaway  enough  to  make 
such  gallanting  reasonable  ;  then  the  bright  picture 
of  the  cuddy  as  I  would  remember  it  on  fine  days 
came  up,  with  its  table  agleam  with  damask  and 
glass,  stewards  wandering  around  it,  a  pleasant 
company  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  eating  and  drink- 
ing, and  I  figured  Florence  among  them,  and  anon 
rose  the  fancy  of  the  breathless  tropical  evening, 
the  moon  in  the  south,  the  dew  like  diamond  dust 
upon  the  rails  and  skylights,  and  Florence  standing 
alone,  looking  away  into  the  infinite  leagues  of 
gloom. 

Now  it  was  at  this,  or  at  some  point  of  my 
reflections  very  near  to  it,  when  the  sense  of  her 
going  away  and  the  conception  of  the  immeasurable 


A   GRAND   IDEA.  311 

miles  which  would  separate  her  from  me  when  she 
had  sailed,  had  cut  into  my  heart  like  a  knife, 
bringing  down  a  whole  flood  of  those  internal  tears 
which  men  who  have  never  wept  since  they  were 
in  petticoats  have  shed  again  and  again  at  times 
of  misery  in  their  lives — at  this  point  of  my 
reverie,  I  say,  an  idea  flashed  upon  me  that 
caught  my  breath  like  a  blow  in  the  side ;  an 
extraordinary  exultation  seemed  to  swell  my  head 
to  four  times  its  proper  dimensions.  Do  you  smile 
at  that,  mates  ?  Well,  next  time  you  are  rendered 
hysterically  joyful,  note  the  sensation  in  your  head 
and  hair.  And  in  a  trice  I  had  sprung  out  of  niy 
chair  and  was  walking  about  the  room  as  hard  as 
my  legs  would  cany  me,  my  cheeks  burning  with 
the  sudden  excitement. 

And  what  do  you  suppose  it  was  that  had  put 
these  heels  to  my  spirits  and  was  working  in  me 
like  a  pint  of  proof  rum  ?  Nothing  more  than  the 
simple  question  asked  by  some  faculty  inside  me 
['ni  willing  to  call  divine  :  Why  don't  yon  go 
with  Flon  nee  '  It  was  a  revelation,  a  grand 
possibility,  and  as  easy  to  do  as  calling  a  cab 
and  driving  to  a  railway  station.  How  was  it  that 
the  idea  did  not  instantly  occur  to  me  when  I  read 
Florence's  letter  ?  I'm  sure  I  cannot  tell  you.  I 
was  rendered  maudlin  and  muddy  by  the  news,  I 
suppose,  and  could  only  see  out  of  one  eye.  But 
now  that   the   notion  had  come  to  me  it  was  as 


318  JACKS   COURTSHIP. 

simple  to  understand  as  boxing  the  compass,  and 
when  I  had  worked  off  my  delirium  by  bowling 
about  the  room,  I  lighted  a  pipe  and  sat  down  to 
trim  the  noble  scheme,  and  to  set  the  whole  matter 
square  and  shipshape  in  my  brains. 

It  was  one  of  those  adventures  indeed  which  no 
man  could  be  better  qualified  to  undertake  than  a 
sailor,  and  in  a  score  of  respects  might  I  reckon 
myself  privileged.  First  of  all  I  had  no  calling  to 
detain  me  at  home  ;  I  was  an  independent  man, 
and  it  was  all  the  same  to  me  whether  I  lived  in 
London  or  Bristol,  or  voyaged  to  Australia.  Xext 
I  had  the  means  to  pay  for  my  passage,  which 
would  not  impoverish  me  either,  for  whether  I 
stayed  at  home  or  went  to  sea  as  a  passenger  I 
should  have  to  live,  and  it  would  not  cost  me  more 
to  live  at  sea  than  if  I  stayed  at  home.  Third,  if 
the  Captain  Daniel  Thompson  whose  name  was 
advertised  as  the  Strathmore's  commander  was  the 
same  person  who  had  been  second  mate  of  the 
Montrose  when  I  was  in  that  vessel,  then  I  should 
be  associated  with  an  old  friend  to  whom  I  could 
explain  the  object  of  my  voyage,  and  whose  help 
I  could  count  upon.  I  name  but  a  few  of  the 
advantages  under  which  I  should  embark  on  this 
adventure.  As  to  what  good  might  come  of  the 
voyage,  I  did  not  allow  that  consideration  to 
trouble  me.  Was  it  not  enough  that  my  scheme 
promised   me   several  months   of   constant   inter- 


A  GRAND  IDEA.  319 

course  with  my  darling?  Conceive  my  feelings 
when  I  reflected  upon  being  locked  up  in  a  ship 
with  Florence.  Why,  down  at  Bristol,  as  you 
know,  I  was  lurking  about  and  could  not  get  even 
to  see  her;  only  just  now  I  had  sent  a  long-winded 
letter  to  Sophie  telling  her  I  was  sure  I  should 
never  meet  my  heart's  delight  again;  and  here, 
in  a  jiffy,  comes  a  scheme  which  would  enable 
me  to  be  by  her  side  or  within  sight  and  sound 
of  her  hour  after  hour,  no  Alphonso  Hawke  to 
loom  close  at  hand  and  scowl  me  away,  no  one 
to  interfere  but  an  aunt  who  had  never  set  eyes 
on  me,  and  who  should  never  know,  if  I  could 
help  it,  who  I  was. 

The  prospect  took  such  complete  possession  of 
me  that  I  remained  indoors  the  whole  evening, 
and  sat  thinking  over  it  far  into  the  night.  When 
at  last  I  went  to  bed  I  lay  there  very  restless, 
picturing  the  voyage,  thinking  of  my  darling  and 
myself  at  sea,  plotting  all  sorts  of  courtesies  and 
attentions  to  Miss  Damaris  Hawke  so  as  to  win 
her  regard,  and  then  fell  asleep  to  dream  that  I 
was  on  a  raft  alone  with  Florence  in  the  middle 
of  the  ocean,  and  that  we  were  rescued  by  a 
steamboat  commanded  by  Mr.  Morecombe,  who 
nourished  a  telescope  upon  the  paddle-box,  and 
shouted  "  Ease  her  !  "  and  /'  Back  her  !  "  like  any 
Thames  penny  skipper. 

Next  morning  I  received  a  letter  from  my  uncle, 


320  JACK'S   COURTSHIP 

four  lines  only,  saying  that  be  would  be  in  London 
on  tbat  day,  and  asking  me  to  lunch  with  him  at 
the  Great  Western  Hotel.  I  was  very  willing  to 
lunch  with  him,  but  ought  I  to  open  my  mind — T 
mean  could  I  trust  him  with  the  secret  of  my 
project?  Suppose  my  aunt,  influenced  by  neigh- 
bourly feelings,  should  deem  it  her  duty  to  apprise 
Mr.  Hawke  of  my  intention  to  accompany  his 
daughter  to  Australia.  Was  that  likely  ?  I  could 
not  be  sure  :  and  not  being  sure,  ought  I  to 
jeopardize  my  noble  scheme  in  the  least  degree 
by  speaking  about  it  to  those  who  were  pretty 
certain  to  repeat  what  I  said?  These  considera- 
tions worried  me  until  it  was  time  to  start  for 
Paddington,  and  then  I  finally  decided  to  sound 
my  uncle  first,  to  talk  with  a  great  deal  of  caution, 
and  to  trim  as  I  might  find  the  wind  blowing. 

I  found  him  waiting  for  me  in  a  private  room  in 
the  hotel,  and  when  I  was  ushered  in  he  ordered 
lunch  to  be  served,  saying  he  was  half  dead  with 
famine.  He  asked  me  how  I  was,  and  I  inquired 
after  my  aunt  and  cousins  ;  and  these  civilities 
being  over,  he  exclaimed,  "lam  glad  to  see  you 
with  some  colour  in  your  cheek,  Jack.  I  expected 
to  behold  a  scarecrow — a  skeleton  with  its  clothes 
hanging  loose  upon  it." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  I.  "  Do  you  think  I  have  been 
ill  ?  " 

"  No.   no  !  I  judge  from  what  Sophie  told  me. 


A  GRAND   IDEA.  321 

She  had  a  letter  from  you  this  morning — a  regular 
twister.  She  wouldn't  show  it  me,  nor  would  I 
have  had  time  to  read  it,  for  I  barely  saved  the 
express  by  one  minute.  But  Bhe  said  you  were 
very  unhappy,  and  roast  me  if  3-011  could  have  made 
her  grieve  more  had  you  asked  her  to  your  funeral 
and  then  hanged  yourself." 

'"It  is  true,"  said  I,  "when  I  wrote,  that  I  was 
miserable  enough.  You  know  of  course  that 
Florence  is  to  be  packed  off  to  Australia  ?  *' 

"  When  you  wrote  you  were  miserable  enough? 
Aren't  you  so  now  ?  "  he  inquired. 

•'  Yes,"  said  I,  "  very." 

"  How's  your  appetite,  Jack  ?  " 

'*  I'm  quite  ready  for  lunch,"  I  answered. 

He  burst  into  a  laugh  and  was  about  to  speak, 
but  smothered  up  his  words  in  a  cough  as  the 
waiter  entered.  "VYe  took  our  seats  at  the  table. 
and  whilst  we  lunched  my  uncle  went  away  from 
all  reference  to  Florence  and  Australia  and  my 
misery  by  telling  me  the  object  of  his  visit  to 
town :  which  was,  I  think,  for  I  cannot  clearly 
remember,  to  buy  some  building  land  at  Clifton, 
and  he  was  somewhat  lively  in  his  abuse  of  a 
solicitor  who  had  left  him  about  ten  minutes 
before  my  arrival.  And  yet  T  could  not  help 
taking  notice  that  all  the  while  he  was  chattering 
he  looked  at  me  as  if  there  was  something  in  his 
thoughts  behind  what  he  was  saying.    At  last,  when 

vol.  r.  v 


322  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

the  waiter  had  cleared  out  and  left  us  alone,  lie 
fell  into  a  short  silence,  inspecting  me  contempla- 
tively, and  then  says  he,  "  So,  Jack,  you  are  to 
lose  Florence  ?  " 

"  I  hope  not,"  I  replied. 

"  But  you  know  she's  going  to  Australia  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"That's  about  12,000  miles  off,  isn't  it?"  said 
he. 

"Call  it  12,000,"  I  replied. 

"A  deuce  of  a  separation,  12,000  miles,"  he 
exclaimed;  "and  all  water,  mind.  No  railways 
from  here  to  Australia,  my  lad :  and  there's  a 
mighty  pause  between  the  posting  of  a  letter  and 
the  getting  a  reply  to  it." 

"Don't  make  me  utterly  miserable,  uncle,"  said  I. 

He  eyed  me  with  a  look  made  up  of  amusement 
and  inquisitiveness.  "Do  you  know,"  cried  he, 
"you  don't  appear  half  miserable  enough.  You're 
like  Steele's  mute  ;  the  more  you  get  the  jollier 
you  look.  What  will  Sophie  think  when  I  tell  her 
of  your  appetite,  and  that  instead  of  being  a  shadow 
you  seem  to  be  fatter  than  when  I  last  saw  you  ?  " 

"  She'll  think  that  I'm  too  much  occupied  in 
groping  about  after  daylight  to  be  broken  down,"  I 
replied,  feeling  my  way  with  him,  as  I  imagined. 

He  took  another  long  stare  at  me,  and  then 
cocking  his  eye  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself, 
he  said,  "  I  wonder  what's  in  your  mind  ?   I  wonder 


A  GRAND  IDEA.  323 

if  what's  there  resembles  what's  here  ?  "  tapping 
his  forehead.  "  I  don't  believe  there's  an  atom  of 
blarney  about  your  feeling  for  Florence,  and  con- 
sequently you're  a  deal  too  comfortable  and  pleasant 
in  your  behaviour,  there's  too  much  satisfaction 
mixed  up  in  your  face  not  to  give  one  a  notion  that 
if  you  felt  yourself  up  a  tree  yesterday  when  you 
wrote  your  Paradise  Lost  of  a  letter  to  Sophie — in 
her  hand,  man,  it  looked  as  long  as  Mahomet's  al 
Koran — you've  managed  somehow  to  slide  down 
out  of  it  since.  Am  I  right  ?  " 
smiled,  but  made  no  answer. 
"  Jack,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  we  have  both  of  us 
been  sailors,  and  I'll  lay  you  fifty  dollars  that 
we've  plumped  upon  the  same  notion.'' 
"What  is  yours?"  said  I. 

"  Why."  cried  he,  raising  his  hand  and  bringing 
it  down  upon  his  knee,  ''what  could  it  be,  man — 
if  you're  in  earnest,  as  I  am  sure  you  are — but  that 
you  should  accompany  her  to  Australia  ?  " 

In  the  face  of  this  I  instantly  chucked  all  the 
considerations  which  had  bothered  me  clean 
overboard. 

••You  have  hit  it,"  I  exclaimed.  "'That's  my 
intention.  If  Florence  sails  for  Australia  I  shall 
go  with  her." 

"  Bravo  !"  he  shouted,  rolling  about  in  his  chair 
in  a  kind  of  ecstasy.  "  I  knew  you'd  do  it — it's 
the  Seymour  spirit — a  fair  grip,  and  old  Nick  may 


324  JACK'S   COURTSHIP. 

shriek  for  mercy.  But  think  of  the  same  notion 
occurring  to  us  both !  It  came  slap  into  me  the 
moment  I  heard  old  Hawke  meant  to  ship  his 
daughter  off.  Oh,  I'm  wicked  to  enjoy  it — I'm 
wicked  to  enjoy  it !  But,  man  alive  !  think  of 
Alphonso's  feelings  when  some  little  bird  whispers 
to  him  that  Jack  Seymour  has  sailed  in  the  ship 
that  was  to  have  carried  Florence  away  from 
the  rogue's  pursuit !  He  called  me  no  gentleman, 
d'ye  remember."  And  he  rolled  about  in  his  chair 
until  I  was  afraid  that  he  would  capsize  head  over 
heels. 

I  waited  until  he  recovered  himself,  and  then 
looked  at  him  with  a  grave  face  whilst  I  addressed 
him  in  my  soberest  tone,  for  the  project  was  a  very 
serious  business  to  me,  and  I  desired  that  he  should 
take  the  same  view  of  it,  that  1  might  have  the 
benefit  of  his  advice. 

"  Uncle,"  said  I,  "  I  think  it  will  be  best  to 
conceal  my  intentions  from  my  aunt  and  cousins." 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered ;  "  I  would  not  have 
them  know  it  on  any  consideration.  They  have 
concerned  themselves  enough  in  this  love-bout  of 
yours,  and  they  must  not  have  the  least  suspicion 
of  your  latest  scheme.  Hawke  then  may  think 
what  he  likes." 

"Taking  that  view,  it  is  a  pity,"  said  I,  "that 
you  should  know  anything  about  it." 

"  "Well,  I'm  not  obliged  to  know,"  he  answered. 


A  GRAND  IDEA.  325 

"I  shan't  see  you  off:  and  you  may  change  your 
mind  at  the  last  moment  for  all  I  am  to  imagine. 
But  I  say,  Jack,  have  you  really  and  seriously 
planned  this  job?  " 

"  I  have,  indeed,"  I  exclaimed  with  energy.  "  If 
Florence  is  to  be  expatriated  I'll  share  her  banish- 
ment :  and  there  is  not  quite  enough  in  a  voyage 
to  Australia  to  frighten  me  into  giving  up  the  girl  I 
love.  And  besides,  there  are  several  points  in  my 
favour  :  the  Strathmore  belongs  to  my  old  employ  :  I 
know  her  skipper  well ;  and  then  the  cost  of  my 
keep  afloat  will  be  less  than  I  should  have  to 
spend  ashore." 

"  But  what  will  you  do  when  you  get  to 
Sydney  ?  "  asked  my  uncle,  talking  as  gravely  as 
I  could  wish.     "  Come  home  again  ?  " 

"Not  without  Florence,"  said  I :  "that  is,  if  I 
cun  make  the  passage  out  answer  the  purpose 
I  have  in  my  mind." 

"  I'm  not  asking  questions  from  any  impertinent 
motives,"  said  he.  "  I  don't  want  you  to  go  and 
strand  yourself  t'other  side  the  world.  What's  the 
sage  money — do  you  know  ?  " 

••  A  cabin  in  the  cuddy  will  cost  me  about  sixty 
pounds." 

"  One  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  there  and 
back — feeding  included — say  ten  months  in  all. 
Yes,"  said  he,  "it  will  be  a  cheaper  job  for  you 
at  sea  than  ashore.     Nor  could  you  live  so  well 


326  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

ashore  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  as  you 
will  as  a  first-class  passenger.  But  don't  forget 
that  Aunt  Damaris  goes  with  Florence — she  has 
her  under  her  wing — and  she  will  fight  with 
swelling  feathers  and  distended  heak  if  you  come 
within  pistol-shot  of  the  girl." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "but  I  shall  have  the  advantage 
of  sparring  with  her  on  an  element  she's  not  used 
to,  but  which  has  been  my  cradle.  Besides,"  I 
continued,  "  I  don't  know  why  there  should  be  any 
fighting.  Perhaps  my  scheme  may  comprise  an 
alias,  for  if  my  comfort  is  to  be  insured  by  borrow- 
ing a  name  I  ought  not  to  find  it  hard  to  fit  myself 
with  a  good  one." 

He  held  up  his  hand,  laughing.  "  Don't  tell  me 
too  much  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Keep  me  honest  by 
being  reserved,  for  Heaven's  sake  !  But  oh,  man, 
it's  a  fine  scheme — a  canny  notion !  What  would 
I  give  to  be  twenty-five,  with  such  a  job  on  hand  ?" 
I  thought,  as  he  spoke,  that  I  could  trace  in  his 
look  something  of  the  old  love  of  devilry  which,  my 
father  used  to  say,  had  procured  his  despatch  to 
sea.  If  you  do  borrow  a  name,"  he  continued, 
"take  a  big  one— something  long  and  fine,  with  a 
De  in  front  of  it.  Nothing  like  a  De — it's  even 
better  than  a  Le.  There's  a  Norman  touch  about 
De  that  makes  people  think  of  William  the  Con- 
queror. But  Florence  will  know  you?"  cried  he 
suddenly.       "  You  can't  deceive   her,   unless   you 


A  GEAXD  IDEA,  327 

make  up  as  a  priest  or  something  of  that  kind. 
Do  you  intend  that,  too  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I,  laughing.  "  I  must  take  my 
chance  of  Florence  keeping  my  identit}'  a  secret 
from  her  aunt.  If  she  won't,  why  then  I  must 
brave  it  out  with  Aunt  Damaris  and  do  the  best  I 
can  for  myself." 

"And  the  skipper  you  spoke  of — he's  an  old 
friend  of  yours,  you  say  ?    He'll  be  knowing  you." 

"  Oh,"  said  I,  "  if  he's  the  Dan  Thompson  I  was 
shipmate  with  he'll  keep  my  secret — he'll  help 
me;  I  have  nothing  to  fear  from  him." 

By  this  time,  seeing  how  thoroughly  in  earnest 
I  was,  he  had  become  as  grave  as  a  judge,  and  the 
kindly  paternal  manner  I  had  before  taken  notice 
of  in  him  when  we  talked  together  at  Clifton  was 
now  very  marked.  He  said  he  had  been  a  good 
deal  surprised  on  hearing  of  Hawke's  intention  to 
send  Florence  to  Australia.  It  was  difficult  to 
understand  the  motive  of  so  extreme  a  step. 
Allowing  that  the  girl  was  in  love  with  me,  we 
were  surely  to  be  kept  apart  without  the  interven- 
tion of  three  oceans.  But  what  bothered  him 
most,  he  said,  was  this :  in  sending  Florence  to 
Australia  her  father  would  be  as  effectually 
separating  her  from  Morecombe  as  he  hoped  to 
separate  her  from  me.  What  was  to  be  made  of 
such  a  policy  ?  Did  it  mean  that  Morecombe  had 
withdrawn  in  disgust,  and  that  Aunt  Damaris  had 


328  JACK'S  COURTSHIP. 

prescribed  a  journey  to  the  other  end  of  the  world 
as  the  only  safe  remedy  against  me  ?  "  Hang 
me,"  said  he,  "  if  I  could  have  the  heart  to  send 
one  of  my  girls  a-trooping  in  this  fashion,  even 
with  an  aunt.  How  long  is  she  to  be  away,  d'ye 
know  ?  " 

I  answered  she  had  written  to  Sophie  that  she 
might  be  absent  two  years. 

"  And  of  course  she'll  bring  back  the  same 
disposition  that  she  took,"  he  exclaimed.  "Climate 
doesn't  change  the  character,  and  as  to  the  ocean, 
why  the  old  fellow  couldn't  choose  a  worse  field 
for  her — no  variety,  no  change  to  occupy  her, 
to  carry  her  old  thoughts  away,  nothing  but  just 
the  sort  of  monotony  that  most  forces  the  mind  in 
upon  itself  and  sets  it  feeding  upon  memory  as  a 
monkey  munches  his  own  tail.  But  all  this  is  my 
friend  Alphonso's  business,  not  mine  ;  I  dare  say 
he  thinks  he  knows  what  he  is  about,  and  that  he 
applauds  his  own  cleverness.  What  do  you  mean 
to  do  when  you  arrive  at  Sydney?  " 

"  I  have  not  troubled  myself  to  think,  and  don't 
mean  to  bother  myself  until  I  get  there,"  said  I. 

"  I  reckon  you'll  be  praying  for  contrary 
winds,"  said  he.  "I  wish  I  could  invent  an 
excuse  to  go  along  with  you.  I  am  often  feeling 
as  if  I  want  to  be  sailing  round  the  world.  But  I 
say,  Jack,  you  must  make  sure  that  your  sweet- 
heart sails  in  the  Strathmore  before  hiring  a  berth. 


A  GRAND  IDEA.  329 

You'd  be  the  Liter  bit  with  a  vengeance,  my  Lad,  to 

jump  abroad  and  find  when  you're  half-way  across 
the  Bay  of  Biscay  that  there  is  no  such  person  as 
Florence  Hawke  in  the  vessel." 

"  Never  fear,"  I  replied.  "  I  don't  know  if  the 
Stmthmorc  calls  for  passengers  at  Plymouth ;  the 
Portia  always  did.  But  anyhow,  if  Plymouth  is 
the  last  place  she  looks  in  to,  and  Miss  Hawke  and 
her  aunt  are  not  aboard,  you  may  trust  me  to  get 
Dan  Thompson  to  put  me  ashore." 

"Well,  well,  you  know  the  ropes,"  said  my 
uncle  ;  "  there's  no  use  teaching  you  to  suck  eggs. 
Your  feet  are  heavier  than  your  head,  and  you'll 
always  fall  upon  'em,  I  calculate.  1  dare  say  niy 
wife  would  think  1  have  no  right  to  take  the 
interest  I  feel  in  this  new  move  of  yours.  It's  not 
neighbourly.  As  a  father  myself  1  oughtn't  to 
show  a  youngster  like  you  any  sympathy  in  this 
job  of  dishing  a  parent's  hopes  and  foisting  a 
son-in-law  he  objects  to  upon  him.  But  1  can't 
help  remembering.  Jack,  that  you  are  my  brother 
Tom's  son,  and  I  can't  help  feeling  that  the 
peremptory  fashion  in  which  that  Australian 
squatter  has  warned  you  off,  the  insolent  manner 
in  which  he  has  treated  you,  who  are  a  gentleman 
and  my  nephew,  and  who  has  done  him  no  other 
wrong  than  paying  him  the  handsomest  compliment 
a  man  can  pay  a  father,  1  mean  hugely  admiring 
his    daughter   and    loving    her  for    herself    onlv, 


330  JACK'S   COUETSHIR 

without  a  single  arrier  ponsy,  as  the  French  call  it, 
respecting  what  shell  be  worth  in  ducats  ;  I  say  I 
can't  help  resenting  all  this  as  a  derned  insult 
offered  to  the  whole  of  us  Seymours,  living  and 
dead,  and  therefore,  my  lad,  my  best  hopes 
accompany  you,  and  if  you  think  any  woman 
bearing  the  name  of  Hawke  worthy  of  so  honourable 
a  title  as  that  of  Seymour,  then  I'm  not  a 
Christian  if  I  don't  devoutly  wish  that  when  you 
return  you'll  bring  back  Florence  with  you  as 
your  wife ; "  and  looking  as  if  this  apology  for 
himself  had  considerably  eased  his  mind,  he  shook 
hands  with  me,  paid  the  bill,  and  we  separated. 


END    OF    VOL.    I. 


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1 8  Sampson  Low,  Marston,  &>  Co's 

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A  Daughter  of  Heth.     By  W.  Black. 
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Lady  Silver-dale's  Sweetheart.     By  W.  Black. 
Sunrise.     By  W.  Black. 
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The  Lady  Maud.     By  W.  CLARK  RUSSELL. 


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20  Sampson  Zo7c,  Marston,  6°  Co.'s 

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Doctor  Johns. 
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Out-of-To\\n  Places. 


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Seven  Stories,  Basement  and  Attic. 

Wet  Days  at  Edgewood. 


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22  Sampson  Low,  Marston,  &*  Cols 

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List  of  Publications.  2  5 


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Schiueinfurth  {Georg)  Heart  of  Africa.  Three  Years'  Travels 
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26  Sampson  Low,  Marston,  g*  Co.'s 


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Smith  (G.)  Assyrian  Explorations  and  Discoveries.     Illustrated 
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The   Chaldean  Account  of  Genesis.      By  the  late  G. 

Smith,  of  the  Department  of  Oriental  Antiquities,  British  Museum. 
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by  Professor  Sayce,  Queen's  College,  Oxford.     8vo,  i8j. 

Smith  (J.  Moyr)  Ancient   Greek  Female  Costume.     112  full- 
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Hades  of  Ardenne :  a  Visit  to  the  Caves  of  Han.    Crown 


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Classic  and  Early  Christian. 


Illustrated.     Crown  8vo,  $s. 


Smith    (W.   Robert)    Laws  concerning  Public  Health.      8vo, 
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Somerset  (Lady  H.)  Our  Village  Life.  Words  and  Illustrations. 
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Spiers'  French  Dictionary.     29th  Edition,  remodelled.    2  vols., 
8vo,  IS*.;  half  bound,  211. 


List  of  Publications.  2  7 


Spry(W.J.f.t  R.N.)   The   Cruise  of  H M.S.  "  Challenger? 

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Children  and  those  who  love  Children.  Illustrated,  small  post  8vo, 
4-r.  6</. 


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8vo,  4-f.  6d. 

Stack  (E.)  Six  Months  in  Persia.     2  vols.,  crown  8vo,  245. 

Stanley  (H.  M.)  Hon'  I  Found  Livingstone.     Svo,    10s.    6d. ; 
crown  Svo,  "js.  6</. 

"My    Kalulu?    Prince,     King,    and    Slave.      With 

numerous  graphic  Illustrations  after  Original  Designs  by  the  Author. 
Crown  Svo,  is.  6</. 

Coomassie  and  Magdala.      A  Story   of  Two  British 


Campaigns  in  Africa.     Demy  Svo,  with  Maps  and  Illustrations,  i6j. 
Through  the  Dark  Continent.     Crown  Svo,  12s.  6d. 

Stanton  (T.)  Woman  Question  in  Europe.  A  Series  of  Original 
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Sien house  {Mrs.)  An  Englislncoman  in  Utah.   Crown  Svo,  2s.  6d. 

Stevens.  Old  Boston  :  a  Romance  of  the  War  of  Lndependence. 
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Stirling  (A.  IV.)  Never  Never  Land :  a  Ride  in  Arort/i 
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Stockton  (Frank  R)  The  Story  of  Vit.au.  With  16  page 
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Stoker  (Dram)  Under  the  Sunset.     Crown  Svo,  6s. 

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with  Illustrations  by  Harvey.     Square  4to,  2s.  6d. 


Starve  (Mrs.  Beecher)  Dred.  Cloth,  gilt  edges,  35.  6d.;  boards,  2s. 
Little  Foxes.     Cheap  Ed.,  is.;  Library  Edition,  4s.  6d. 


23  Sampson  Zoic,  Mars  ton,  6°  Co.'s 

Stowe  {Mrs.  Beecher)  My  Wife  and  I;  or,  Harry  Henderson's 
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Sutton  (A.  K.)  A  B  C  Digest  of  the  Bankruptcy  Law.     8vo, 
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7  A  INF  (H.  A)  "  Les  Origines  de  la  France  Coniemporaine." 
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Vol.  1.     The  Ancient  Regime.     Demy  8vo,  cloth,  i6x. 
Vol.  2.     The  French  Revolution.     Vol.  1 .        do. 
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Talbot  {Hon.  F.)  A  Letter  on  Emigration,     is. 

Tangye  (P.)  Peminiscences  of  Australia,  America,  and  Egypt. 
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Tauchnitz's    English    Editions    of  German   Authors.      Each 
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. French  and  English  Dictionary.     Paper,  is.  6d.)  cloth, 

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*  See  also  Rose  Library. 


L is  I  of  Publications.  2  9 


Tauchnitz(B.)  Italian  and  English  Dictionary.     Taper,  1*.  6./.; 
cloth,  2s. ;  roan,  2s.  6J. 

Spanish  and  English.     Paper,  1*.  6d.  j  cloth,  2S.  \  roan, 


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Spanish    and    French.      Paper,    is.    6d. ;    cloth,    2S.\ 

roan,  2s.  6d. 

Taylor  (\V.  Af.)  Paul  the  Missionary.     Crown  Svo,  js.  6 J. 

Moses  the  Lawgiver.     Crown  Svo,  "js.  6d. 

Thau  sing  (Prof.)  Preparation  of  Malt  and  the  Fabrication  of 
Beer.     8vo,  45X. 

Theakston  (M.)  British  Angling  Flies.    Illustrated.    Cr.  Svo,  $s. 

Thoreau.  By  San  corn.  (American  Men  of  Letters.)  Crown 
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Tolhausen  (Alexandre)  Grand  Supplement  du  Diction  nairc 
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Tolmer  (Alexander)  Reminiscences  of  an  Adventurous  and  Che- 
quered  Career.     2  vols.,  21s. 

Tourist  Idyll \  and  other  Stories.     2  vols.,  crown  8vo,  215. 

Tracks  in  Norway  of  Four  Pairs  of  Feel,  delineated  by  Four 
Hands.     Fcap.  Svo,  2s. 

Treloar  ( IV.  P. )  The  Prince  of  Palms.  With  Coloured  Frontis- 
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extra,  is.  6d. 

Trials.     See  Browne. 

Tristram  (Rev.  Canon)  Pathways  of  Palestine :  A  Descriptive 
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manent Photographs.   2  vols.,  folio,  cloth  extra,  gilt  edges,  3 1  s.  6J.  each. 

Tunis.     See  Reid. 

Turner  (Edward)  Studies  in  Russian  Literature.    Cr.  Svo,  Ss.  6d. 


T  JXION  Jack  (The).    Every  Boy's  Paper.     Edited  by  G.  A. 
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Up  Stream  :  A  Journey  from  the  Present  to  the  Past.     Pictures 
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BOOKS  BY  JULES  VERNE. 

CELEBRATED  TRAVELS  and  TRAVELLERS,    s  Vols.,  Demy 

8vo,  600  pp. ,  upwards  of  100  full-page  Illustrations,  12s.  6rf. ; 
gilt  edges,  14-?.  each  : — 

/.  The  Exploration  of  the  World. 
II.  The  Great  Navigators  of  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
III.  The  Great  Explorers  of  the  Nineteenth  Century. 

|j§F    The  letters  appended  to  each  book  refer  to  the  various  Editions  and  Tricas 

given  at  the  foot  of  the  page. 
a  e  TWENTY    THOUSAND  LEAGUES  UNDER  THE   SEA. 
ae  HECTOR  SERVADAC. 
ae  TEE  FUR   COUNTRY. 
af  FROM    THE     EARTH     TO     THE    MOON,    AND    A     TRIP 

ROUND   IT. 
ae  MICfclAEL   STROOOFF,  THE   COURIER  OF   THE    CZAR. 
ae  DICK   SANDS,    THE    BOY  CAPTAIN. 
bed  FIVE   WEEKS  IN  A    BALLOON. 

bed  ADVENTURES  OF  3  ENGLISHMEN  AND  3  RUSSIANS. 
bed  AROUND   THE  WORLD   IN  EIGHTY  DAYS. 
(f/A    FLOATING    CITY. 
IrfTHE    BLOCKADE    RUNNERS. 
d  |  DR.    OX'S   EXPERIMENT. 


be 
be 


{  MASTER    ZACHARIUS. 
,fA  DRAMA   IN  THE   AIR. 
"(A   WINTER  AMID  THE   ICE. 


,      \deTRK   SURVIVORS   OF   THE   "  CHANCELLOR." 
/./MARTIN   PAZ. 
bed  THE   CHILD   OF   THE   CAVERN. 

THE   MYSTERIOUS  ISLAND,  3  Vols.  :— 
bed       I.  DROPPED   FROM   THE   CLOUDS. 
bed     II.   ABANDONED. 
bed  III.  SECRET   OF   THE   ISLAND. 
,      (rfTHE   BEGUM'S  FORTUNE. 

I      THE    MUTINEERS    OF    THE   "BOUNTY." 
bed  THE  TRIBULATIONS   OF   A  CHINAMAN. 
THE    STEAM   HOUSE,  2  Vols.  :— 
bed    I.   DEMON  OF   CAWNPORE. 
bed  II.  TIGERS    AND    TRAITORS. 

THE   GIANT   RAFT,   2   Vols.:— 
b     I.  EIGHT    HUNDRED  LEAGUES  ON   THE  AMAZON. 
b   II.   THE    CRYPTOGRAM. 
b    GODFREY   MORGAN. 
d  THE  GREEN   RAY.     Cloth,  gilt  edges,  6*. ;  plain  edges,  5s. 

KERABAN  THE  INFLEXIBLE,   2  Vols.  :  — 
b     I.  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  GUIDARA. 
b    II.     In  the  press. 
a  Small  8vo,  very  numerous  Illustrations,  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt 
edges,  10s.  6rf.  ;  ditto,  plainer  binding,  5*. 

b  Lar^e  imperial  16mo,  very  numerous  Illustrations,  handsomely  bound  in  cloth, 
with  srilt  edg:es,  7*.  6d. 

e  Duto,  plainer  binding,  3*.  6d. 

d  Cheaper  Edition,  1  Vol.,  paper  boards,  with  some  of  the  Illustration?,  Is. ;  bound 
in  cloth,  gilt  edges,  2s. 

e  Cheaper  Edition  as  (<?),  in  2  Vols.,  1?.  each  ;  bound  in  cloth,  gilt  edges,  1  Vol., 
3*.  €d. 
f  S  line  as  (e),  exefpt  in  cloth,  2  Vols.,  gilt  edgec  2s.  each. 


Sampson  Low,  Marston,  &*  Co.'s  List  of  Publications.      31 

T/ELAZQL'EZ  and  Murillo.      By  C.   B.   Curtis.      With 
V       Original  Etchings.     Royal  Svo,  31J.  6d. ;  large  paper,  65s. 
Verne  ( Jules)  Keraban  the  Inflexible.     Illustrated.     Small  post 
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Vincent  (F.)  Norsk,  Lapp,  and  Finn.  By  Frank  Vincent, 
Tun,  Author  of  "The  Land  of  the  White  Elephant,"  "Through 
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Viollet-le-Duc  (£.)  Lectures  on  Architecture.  Translated  by 
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Vivian  (A.  F.)  Wanderings  in  the  Western  Land.  3rd  Ed.,  ios.6d. 

Voyages.     See  McCormick. 

TJ/AHL    (Jf.    II.)    Galzanoplastic    Manipulation   for    the 
'  '         Electro-  Plater.     Svo,  35* 

Wallace  (L.)  Ben  Bur:  A  Tale  of  the  Christ.     Crown  8vo,  6s. 
Walter   (Rev.    C.    H.)    The   Names   on   the    Gates   of  Pearl, 

and   other   Studies.      By   the   Rev.   C.   H.    Waller,    M.A.      New 

Edition.     Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3-r.  6J. 
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the  Greek  Testament.    Compiled  from  Bruder's  Concordance.     For 

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Grammar.     Small  post  Svo,  cloth,  is.  6d.    Part  II.  Vocabulary,  zs.  6d. 
Adoption   and    the    Covenant.      Some    Thoughts   on 


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Webster.     (American  Men  of  Letters.)     iSmo,  2s.  6d. 
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Every-day  English,  crown  8vo,  \os.  6d. 


32     Sampson  Zoic,  Marston,  &  Coh  List  of  Publications. 

White  (R.  G.)  Fate  of  Mansfield  Humphreys,  with  the  Episode 
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Whittier  (f.  G.)  The  King's  Missive,  and  later  Poems.  i8mo, 
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Willianis  (M.)   Some   London    Theatres:    Past  and  Present. 

Crown  8vo,  Js.  6d. 
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Woolson  {Constance  F)     See  "  Low's  Standard  Novels." 
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History ;  the  Medici ;  the  Humanists  ;  letters ;  arts  ;  the  Renaissance ; 
illustrious  Florentines;  Etruscan  art;  monuments;  sculpture;  painting. 


Eorrton: 

SAMPSON  LOW,  MARSTON,   SEARLE,   &  RIVINGTON, 
CROWN  BUILDINGS,  188,  FLEET  STREET,  E.C- 


